


Leaving Kadavo In Chains

by EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12



Series: Everything Changed WIth Kadavo [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Attempted Murder, Gen, Kadavo Arc, Major AU, Order 66, Rescue, Revenge, Slavery, Suspense, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-14 12:46:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 33,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7172096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12/pseuds/EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU of Escape from Kadavo. Count Dooku decides not to kill the Queen in exchange for something very valuable to him...and the Republic. Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Clone Commander Rex are desperate for rescue that isn't coming in the slave camp where they are punished for good deeds, and the Jedi are loathed. However, something even more sinister is in store for the Jedi slave...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Convinced

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think :)

He woke up to the bottom of a pair of boots in front of his face; they were shiny, too shiny to be anyone but guards. He let out a long breath, unable to move from where he had been shackled to the wall after he had been "unruly" the day before. He stretched out with the force, and he could feel that Rex was only a few feet away, more than likely in the same state he was, since, before he had been dragged in here, he remembered the Commander trying to push a guard away from him.

He stared at the shoe longer, willing him memory to return past the throbbing that was coursing through his head. He didn't have to wait long, as he watched the shoe reared back, and before he could react to move, landed a swift kick into his ribcage. "Wake-up, Jedi." His sucked in a breath, and as his body reacted to the force of the kick, his back lit on fire. He could feel where the skin was torn, and as he recoiled from the boot onto his back, he could feel that what remained of his back tunic was soaked in blood. The guard glared down at him, an ugly Zygerrian with one half of his face scarred to the point where his left eye no longer opened. "Looks like somebody actually wants the pair of you,"

For a moment, Obi-wan felt hope twinge into him that it was the Order, the Senate, Anakin; but the Jedi did not make deals with Slavers, and judging from the guards tone, where they were headed wasn't any more pleasant. Rex had been knocked awake in the same manner, and Obi-wan took a moment to take in the Commander's state. His eye was black, like Obi-wan, he seemed to have a deep head wound, his normally clean blonde hair sticky with matted blood.

They were detached from the wall, and marched forward. Obi-wan tried to keep his back still, each muscle twitch sending sharp shots of pain over his body. He vaguely wondered how many times they had hit him, how many times before he had passed out from the blow to the head, and how many times after.

"Someone wants us, Rex." He attempted a joke, but the clone looked over at him and grimaced.

"Rough night, general?" Obi-wan wondered how he looked. It didn't take to much imagination, to be honest, every part of his body either ached or burned, and he thought now he could feel what he was certain was his own blood running into his right eyebrow.

"Shut up, skug!" The words were aimed at Rex, but the electro-jabber found its way to Obi-wan's side, burning a place that he could tell had already been mistreated. He steeled his resolved, unwilling to react in any way that wasn't involuntary. His flinching burned the whip marks even more, but he kept his eyes forward, letting his deadened feet carry them towards what would be an even worse target.

"Don't usually sell 'em once they reach the work camps, what'd the deal?" The guard on Rex's end asked, and as best he could, Obi-wan tried to listen.

"Some man wanted these two specific, he said. Doesn't buy slaves, normally, I guess. He'd do much better at auction than with these two skugs." They shared a laugh, and Obi-wan could feel his worry increasing. He felt no Jedi here, no comforting force presence. Something sinister instead, although the feeling of dread and hopelessness that lingered over Kadavo had settled into his bones as soon as he had arrived; it was not a new felling.

They came to an open room, one much cleaner, and relatively larger than any Obi-wan had seen in this place. Something hard hit the back of his legs, his knees striking hard on the stone floor where Rex collapsed beside him. "Your new master'll be here soon enough, Jedi." Obi-wan closed his eyes, willing the force to come to him for strength, but in a place like this, with his body in terrible pain, exhausted from long hours spent with almost no nutrition to speak of, witnessing the torture and murder of others, it was slow in coming. And when it arrived, it was not the usual level of comfort that pervaded his connection to the living force, but almost a weak, grasping attempt to come through a broken signal.

"I take it you have realized that your collar has more than electricity in it, Master Kenobi?" He opened his eyes slowly, forcing himself to stay still as he realized exactly what was going to happen to him and Rex. "Your force connection has been hampered by force suppressants. I didn't want Skywalker finding you so easily."

The voice came from behind them, Obi-wan looked over at Rex, who was on his knees risen with perfect posture, maintain his soldier's battle-ready expression. He had not recognized the voice as Obi-wan had.

"I assured the Queen I do not deal in slavery," Every word was calculated. "And to be perfectly honest, I didn't feel like paying for you." A new figure, sets of dark clothes coming to stand in front of him. He looked up. "Instead, she agreed to give you and the clone to me as Prisoners of War, as long as she got to keep Skywalker." Obi-wan narrowed his eyes, trying to appear resolute despite his head wound. "I do hope you're worth it."

And as Obi-wan looked up, leaning back to meet the eyes of his new captor, his back screamed in protest. He could a wave of fresh blood spilling into the thin rags still covering his back, as the cold smile of Count Dooku looked down at him.

"Take them aboard my ship."


	2. Connection

Anakin stood in the court of Queen Miraj's palace, watching the false peace of the Zygerrian city move around him. There was another group of slaves moving in, he had seen the freighter landing only moments before. He was waiting, having located Ashoka her suspended cage on the palace awning, and now he needed Obi-Wan.

He had not known, in his banishment from the palace the day before, that Dooku had been on the planet until far too late when he had seen his ship disappear hours earlier. Whatever Dooku was doing, it wasn't good; but the Queen had given no indication that anything was out of the ordinary. She had not asked him that day to join her again, although he could feel the question hovering between them each time she looked over at him.

He stood, enshrouding himself with the protection of the force. He could feel Ashoka's connection was strong, she was meditating, and he tried to reach out to Obi-Wan. The unshakeable bond with his former master was something he had always cherished and what had served as an anchor for him to control his emotions. Now, when he reached out along that familiar pathway, he felt hollow, a low buzzing coming to his brain.

"It is not too late, Skywalker." The Queen's heavily accented voice broke his concentration, right when he had felt he was on the verge of more than a severed connection. "Your friends are still alive for now."

"Where is Obi-Wan?" He asked, keeping his eyes closed, and his face turned away from her and towards the city.

"I'll be honest with you," He felt her body press against his side. "I no longer know."

Anakin tried to reach out again with the force, desperate for an indication that his master was close, or at the very least, still alive. "You ordered his removal form this system."

"Yes." She said, and he resisted the urge to recoil in disgust as she took his hand in her own. "But other arrangements have been made." He opened his eyes now to stare at her, her teeth curled into a cruel smile, her eyes watching the city that had been his focus minutes before. "As much as I would have loved to keep the Jedi in my custody, I was convinced he was needed elsewhere." He stepped away from her, her anger clear at his motions.

"Is he still alive?" Anakin could feel his own rage boiling in his chest. He tried to release it into the force, but his attachment to his former master, a bond forbidden by the Jedi Code, was keeping him from it.

"Like I said, I don't know." She was almost purring, and he was reliving horrible memories from his childhood where slavers, before they had been sold to Watto, had looked at him with that same expression. Void, meaningless, and cruel, it was usually attached to some form of punishment. A night without food, extra hours of work, a beating; all with that same visage of sadistic happiness. "He isn't mine anymore."

"Obi-Wan doesn't belong to anyone."

She laughed at him, and he was forced, again, to listen to her words about the Jedi Order, the slaves of the Galactic Republic.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Obi-wan woke up, he was convinced that at some point in his sleep, he had been set on fire. His entire body felt burned, and stiff. He tried to stretch exhausted limbs, but as he did, he felt the new skin that had closed over his last marks tear and blood ooze down his now bare back. What had been left of his tunic was gone, his boots as well, but also the collar that had been forced around his neck. Instead, he could feel what seemed like a knife shoved into his body next to his collar bone. He craned his neck, trying to see it in the darkness of his cell. It was a force suppressant, a hard, round object that had been forced through is skin and wrapped around his collarbone. He had seen other Jedi, ones in the Citadel, who had them. Metal spindles extended from the top parts and wrapped themselves around collarbones; they required surgery to remove, try to remove one by yourself and risk bleeding to death form hitting a major artery.

"Rex?" He said, surprised how rough his voice sounded. He could barely get it above a whisper, his throat was dry, his mouth tasted of old blood.

"Right here, General." The clone sounded almost normal, and he let out a sigh of relief. "Do you feel alright?"

Obi-wan wasn't sure alright would be the way to describe it. Everything on his body hurt in some form or another. Every limb he could move that wasn't fastened to the wall, screamed in protest. Every muscle he tried to flex sent a new rush of pain over him, every piece of skin felt taut. But at least he was not dead. "I'm fine. How about you?"

"They haven't taken much of an interest in me here." Rex answered, and Obi-Wan took that as a sign he was okay. "You're really what they care about. They came in earlier and put that thing in your chest. I think they were waiting on you to wake up." As if Rex had spoken in some sort of magic language, the door to their joint cell opened. The light of the hallway, though dim, was almost blinding. The silhouette of Count Dooku was in the doorway, and he flicked on a dull light switch that ignited a bulb in the middle of the room. The light was weak, but as Dooku shut the door, it was much easier to see with it or guidance. Rex looked the same as he had on Kadavo, his eye black but fading to a dark purple, his shirt, like Obi-wan's, gone.

"Do you know where you are, Kenobi?" Dooku stood facing the General. Obi-wan felt like laughing, Rex was absolutely right. He suspected the Clone was here to draw more Jedi to their rescue, or to convince Obi-wan to answer questions.

"Your lovely home, I would assume." His tongue felt thick, and he realized how much he wanted a drink. His hands were lax at his sides, but as he tried to move his arms, his joints flared, and the chains gave him less than an inch of motion.

"Serreno." Dooku's usual tone was marked by annoyance. "This is a war prison, Kenobi. It hasn't been utilized in many years, since the Republic banned the practices done here." He paused, and Obi-wan could see his smile under his white beard. He was reminded of Dooku's age, but even as a man older than 80, the Count certainly had all of his wits about him. "I felt that perhaps it was time for it to reopen."

"I'm glad to know you could afford to make special accommodations on our account, Dooku." Obi-wan could feel Rex's rough breath as he choked down a laugh at Obi-wan's words. Dooku did not share the sentiment.

Obi-wan felt a hand tighten around his throat, his body being lifted off the floor. His hands came free form the wall, but were immediately bound together behind his back. He was eye level with Dooku, the Count's lips turned upwards in a cruel smile. Obi-Wan gasped for breath, but no relief came.

"We have a few questions for you Kenobi," Dooku closed his hand tighter, and Obi-wan saw black spots swim in front of him. "It would be to your and the clones benefit to answer them." The door opened again, Obi-wan slamming his eyes shut as two guards took hold of him by his bound arms and the grip on his throat released. He sucked in air, the exaggerated motion of it stretching his already abused body, and the pair of guards pushed him roughly down the hall, shoving him into a room where it was very clear what was happening.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Fifteen minutes later, Obi-Wan Kenobi was holding in a scream and desperately trying to release his consciousness as a whip cut another line across his back. Or, he thought to himself, whatever was left of his back. Dooku's questions had come to no avail, he had so far answered none of them. His arms had been hoisted and tied above his head to a wall, his back exposed to a guard who he wasn't sure was bright enough to talk. But he was strong enough to tie up the Jedi, and more than strong enough to swing a whip.

"Where are the Outer Rim medical units?" Dooku's voice came from the back of the cell, as if he was bored of their conversation. Obi-wan said nothing, and waited, knowing what was coming.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Anakin Skywalker sat straight up on the sleep couch the Queen had allotted him. He had been trying all night to reach Obi-Wan's force signature. But he had been unsuccessful, and had finally fallen asleep to his own chagrin. But now, he could feel something. It was not what he had been trying for, not what he wanted. It was an image of his master, torn, bloody, and unconscious. But the image wasn't form his Master's force signature.


	3. Knowledge

Rex watched the General, keeping close eyes on his chest to make sure he was still breathing. He knew he wasn't asleep, but unconscious, and never, not even on Zygerria, had the Commander felt so helpless. They had come for him several times since they had been here, each time bringing him back in a bloody mess, dumping him gracelessly on the floor of their cell and chaining him to the wall. He wasn't sure what the point of that was, the more he looked at the General's leg, the more he was convinced it was broken.

His leg, however oddly angled it was, was nothing compared to his upper body. Rex wasn't sure what they had found to whip this last time, his entire torso seemed to be covered in blood. Rex had seen wounds, terrible battle wounds where he had watched his brothers choke out final breaths as blood swelled in their chests and out of their lungs. This was different. Unlike those wounds, these weren't meant to kill, they were meant to torture.

He had taken to listening to the guards speak, and from the slight conversations he could hear outside their door, he had learned that they were the only prisoners in a veritable fortress. It would take serious firepower to break through the walls Count Dooku had constructed, and that was nothing of the small parcel of a droid army that defend the estate. The prison was on the Count's own property, and form what Rex could tell, since he had been in everyday to pick up Obi-Wan, he never left.

He heard a gasping noise, and new Obi-Wan was waking up. "General?" There was no response. "General, are you awake? Can you talk?"

"Yes." But his words were weak, his voice not the calm, level speech of the Negotiator Jedi, but dry, hoarse, and a shadow of what it had been.

"Is your leg broken, Sir?" He watched, barely able to make out anything specific in the dim light, as Obi-Wan tried to move his legs, and he heard his breath leave him in a pained rush.

"I believe so." He watched as Obi-wan tried to pull himself to the wall, keeping any weight off of his leg. He pulled up into a sitting position, leaning heavily on his side so as not to damage his back any further. "Are you hurt?"

The questions made Rex feel even worse than he already did. He knew of the General's compassion form word of mouth and assurance form his brothers in the General's battalion. The man was horrifically injured, perhaps dying, and yet Rex hadn't heard him scream, and each time he came back to consciousness, the first thing he asked was of Rex's health.

"I'm fine, General." He shifted his body, pushing out with his hands the extra cup of water and bread he had saved form when they had brought them food earlier, and left none for Obi-wan. He pushed it towards him with his foot. "Here, this might help." The Jedi looked at him gratefully, and took the water swallowing it down quickly. Not wanting to watch him eat, Rex looked away, and noticing, for the first time past the end of his bare feet, the dark stain that the General's blood had left on the floor.

'Skywalker', he thought to himself, looking back over to see that Obi-Wan had finished the bread and gone into a restless sleep, 'if you're coming, it had better be soon.'

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Dooku threw his cape over the side over the bench in the garden. There was no need to wear it here, not in his place of meditation. He sat, his legs crossed, and considered all their was to consider. He drew on old Jedi teachings, letting the living force that surrounded him flow through his body to his fingertips and back into him where it settled like a weightless aura in his chest. He let out a long breath, concreting himself to the ground, existing in the knowledge that his great cycle of political turmoil was rocking the galaxy and corruption was nearing its end as the war drew to a close.

He stayed that way for a long time, breathing in the clean air of Serreno gardens, letting the pale, but warming sunlight wash over his body. "Count Dooku, Sir?" It was a protocol droid. "If I may interrupt, Sir, you have a communication coming through."

"Very well." He had been expecting a call from Sidious for days, since he had reported the capture of Kenobi. He rose to one knee as the droid placed and left a Holo-Pad on the grass in front of him, and blue, blurry form of the Chancellor came to life. "Greetings, Master."

"Tell me, Tyranus, of the progress you have made with the Jedi." His master did not return his greeting, nor give any indication that he was pleased with the turn of events.

"He is weakening, my Lord." Dooku looked up at the hooded figure, his small smile etched across his face. "Soon he will tell us all we need to know."

"I think you may be mistaken about that." His master's words were angry. "The Jedi have been trained to not reveal information about the order since their induction into the temple. You should know how secrecy is there way since birth. And you, my apprentice, do not know Kenobi as I do."

Dooku waited, recognizing that Sidious did not wish for him to speak or interrupt, despite the long pause between words. He could feel his own frustration growing. Kenobi was the apprentice of Qui-Gon, his own apprentice. He had held him captive before, been held hostage with him by pirates; Dooku dropped the smile form his face, no longer putting up the charismatic façade he normally possessed.

"Change your questioning. The Jedi will reveal nothing of the Order. Ask him instead of his friends: Skywalker, and his apprentice. Information we can use against Skywalker is what is most valuable to us." Dooku was surprised, but did not show it. His master knew Skywalker personally. "Skywalker will seek him, and soon. When he does, I doubt your ability to keep them apart." Dooku's lips tightened the faintest amount in anger, but he knew better than to give an open display. "Get the information we need, and dispose of the Jedi before that time comes. Skywalker's rage will unbalance him, and the war will be far closer to its end." The hologram cut out, and Dooku rose to a standing position.

He had unclear instructions, the things he was supposed to learn from Kenobi were not spelled out for him, though he could guess what they might be. He had not been told what to do with Skywalker, although in the back of his mind, he was certain that Sidious wanted him alive. He picked up his cape, reclipping it around his upper body to return to the house, a new plan being set into action.

Almost as an afterthought, he turned, and feeling the buzzing of the dark side of the force through his blood, swelling and threatening to grow out of control, it pulsed form his fingers in lighting and destroyed the Holo-Pad that had held his master only moments before.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
It had been days since Anakin had felt the buzzing connection between himself and Dooku, but he could feel it again now. It was as if he was inside of the Seperatist Leader, he could hear his own boots making soft thuds on the stone floor beneath him. He could feel anger, and some other, twisted form of an emotion so buried that it would not surface. He felt himself, as Dooku, kick a door open and saw again the form of his master inside. Only this time, he was much worse. His features were drawn across his face, his skin pale. As he looked through Dooku's eyes he could see his booted foot twisting oddly to avoid stepping in a dark red stain on the floor. He felt a pulse of energy, hovering over the unconscious Jedi, and watched as form his own fingertips, a burst of blue lightning cut across the air between them.

He was aware, back in the realm of his own body, of his hands clenching and unclenching, his muscles tightening in fury as he watched Obi-Wan contract and writhe with pain, jarred from sleep. He shut his senses to Zygerria, focusing instead on the sounds he could hear as Rex, who must have been sharing a cell with his master, yelled for Dooku to stop. Focusing on the sight of his master's body, abused and breaking, coping again with bouts of agony that were no longer tempered by the force. He focused on Dooku, desperately trying to figure out something useful as tears came to his eyes and cold fury settled into his heart.

And it hit him, disrupting the vison as he saw Obi-Wan's eyes, a look of distraught agony pulled across his features.

"Serenno." He was so relieved, he spoke the word aloud Dooku had taken his master back to his home world.

"What was that?" The Queen spoke to him form her throne, looking down casually at him.

"Nothing, your highness." He spoke through gritted teeth. His master, and his Commander were on Serrenno; being tortured by Dooku. And he was here, on Zygerria. He looked out over the balcony, where he knew Ashoka was settled in her cage, and felt the waves of the force rolling off of her in her meditative state. He thought back to the images he had seen in his mind, and knew they had to leave.


	4. Escalation

Anakin knew that his time was running out: he was certain he would have felt his master's death by now, but judging by the images he had seen through Dooku, he knew that they would not have much time to rescue him. He had tried again to reach through the connection with Dooku, but he could not. Part of it made him uneasy, he didn't know why the bond had opened between them in the first place, and he had no guidance on the matter either.

He needed to leave Zygerria, get to Serenno. In order to do that, he needed Ashoka, and a ship. His former apprentice might be easy enough to secure, dinner was approaching, and he watched the guard on night duty approach the table. He walked over to him, clamping his hand on the male's shoulders. He was stupid, Anakin could tell by his befuddled expression when looking at the Jedi. He concentrated hard, feeling the force push through his fingers, concentrating around his growing emotions of rage and panic.

"You will not go to guard duty tonight." The guard stared at him, his mouth open slightly. Anakin wasn't sure what species he was, was there such a thing as being to stupid to be mind-tricked.

"Won't go to guard duty tonight." The guy said slowly, in a dialect Anakin barely understood.

"You'll go home, and mention this to now one."

"Go home, won't mention this to no one." The man said, and Anakin smiled at him, releasing his shoulder. The male blinked, dazed, reaching for something to drink from the servants table. Anakin took his place by the Queen.

The rest of the dinner, Anakin watched as most of the troop, those not on duty, drunk themselves into a quiet stupor. The Queen filled his ears with promises if he joined her, sickeningly sweet promises that Anakin smiled falsely at, refusing to answer her questions. By the end of dinner, putting up such a façade had exhausted him, but he watched the guard he had tricked begin to wonder, not to where he was supposed to be stationed, but to the city streets with the others.

"Your highness is too kind for this lovely food." He said quietly, distracting her as the guard staggered out of the doorway into the darkness.

"You could have all of this, you know." She touched his face. "You don't have to be my slave, Skywalker." Her eyes were full of more than cruelty, and Anakin had known since they arrived she had taken a sexual interest in him. He let her touch his face until she was sure the man was gone.

"I will have to think more carefully on your offer, your highness." And he stood from the table, retreating towards the quarters she had provided for him.

"No, Skywalker." He stopped, and she came up behind him, looping her arms through his. "You will stay with me tonight." He resisted the urge to shudder, then let the panic set into his bones. IF not tonight, he doubted he would be able to convince the people guarding Ashoka to abandon their post again. When it was discovered that guard was missing, he would be released, or killed. It had to be tonight, and yet, he knew he could not say no to her for drawing suspicion to his plans.

"As you wish, your highness." And as he looked back at her, he saw her humanoid, feline features curl upward in delight, unable to see his metal hand clamp around his lightsaber.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Obi-Wan knew that whatever Dooku had planned for the next few minutes was not good. He was chained to the wall in his usual spot, the gray stone already stained dark with the blood that splattered out of him. But this time, Rex was in the room as well, chained to the far wall. Thus far, Dooku had shown no interest in the clone.

He and the guards stood between them now, the one guard Obi-Wan was used to seeing standing in his usual graceless pose with a whip outstretched in his hand. "I have to admire your resolve, Kenobi." Dooku started talking, and Obi-Wan wanted little more than to wipe the ridiculous smirk off of his face. "But unfortunately, I'm on a bit of a schedule. I thought we could use a little help." The guard shoved Obi-Wan's face to the wall, exposing his raw back. Before they had come in, two guards had thrown water over him, soaking his entire body, washing what had looked like a gallon of his own blood off of him into a drain in the cell floor. He was still wet, but his skin, what remained uncut, was cleared of the obstructive layer.

"What do they call you, Clone?" Dooku turned his attention to the Captain.

"Captain Rex." Obi-wan listened to Rex's words, hearing the resolve in the clone's voice strengthened his own.

"Don't touch him, Dooku." Obi-Wan spit out, his mouth heavy, his leg braced against the wall as it could no longer support any of his weight from the clean bone break he had received what felt like years before.

"I don't intend to, Kenobi. I have no interest in torturing clones." Although Obi-Wan couldn't see the former Jedi's face, he was certain his lips were curled in his trademark sadistic smirk. "However, Captain, you have information I need about Skywalker."

"Don't tell him, Rex." Obi-Wan said, this time earning a kick to the back of his leg from the guard. He sucked in breath, desperate to release the pain into the force, even as it seemed it had abandoned him here.

"Tell me, Captain, about the relationship between Skywalker and his apprentice." Dooku ignored Obi-Wan's gasp of pain, keeping his eyes on the clone.

"What do you mean?" Rex had stiffeend at the mention of Ashoka, not knowing Dooku's intentions of asking these questions.

"Their interactions. Tell me about the pair of them together."

"Don't tell him, Rex." Obi-Wan said again, bracing himself for the kick that came again into his broken bone. The clone captain did not speak, and Obi-Wan waited, his breath almost held in his throat, for Dooku's reaction. Rex wouldn't disobey a direct command, he never had.

"I see you are going to be about as cooperative as Obi-Wan here. What a shame, this could have been painless."

"We clones are equipped to deal with pain, Sir. It's what we train for."

"I'm fully aware of your clone training programs, Captain. And since Kenobi has given you a direct order, I know you can't answer my question." There was another long moment of silence between them, and to Obi-Wan, it seemed as though the room was holding its breath. "But I wasn't referring to you, really."

Obi-Wan felt the sharp bite fo the whip across his back, hitting a mark that he realized had not been struck before, cutting deep into his flesh that was growing smaller and smaller each day as malnutrition set into his bones. It came again, and again and again, and he bit back against the pain. Determined, that even if his body went into shock, which he could feel coming at him from the dark recesses of his brain, he wouldn't give Dooku the satisfaction of his screaming. He had made it two weeks, the whip struck again and again in rapid succession, he would make it through this.

"Stop!" He heard Rex yell, "Stop, he hasn't done anything. I'm the one who won't answer your question." The whip stopped swinging, and Obi-Wan let out the breath he had been holding in, his back wet now as his blood ran freely, his eyes closed as his vision threatened to throw him into nausea from the black spots of pain that danced in front of him.

"Answer the questions then." Dooku said, his pedantic accent arching his words with the cruelty they were laced with. "Does Skywalker have any weaknesses in battle? Anything you have noticed?"

"Don't answer him, Rex." Obi-Wan wasn't sure if he really spoke the words, the world was inconsistent, and dark around him, but he did not hear the clone speak, they must have met their mark.

"Very well, Captain, I see you have made a choice." The whip hit Obi-Wan again, the very tip cutting through the skin at the back of his neck. It bit into his arms, along his sides. With each swing, he felt his consciousness ebbing, the pain growing. They had to have hit him at least fifty times by now, anywhere they could find to hit him. His body begged for the release that unconsciousness would bring.

"I know you can't disobey order Captain, but I thought your main duty was to protect your Jedi Commanders." He could hear Dooku's voice, pushing through the red haze of his brain.

"It is!" Rex sounded so desperate, Obi-Wan felt bad for him, wishing he had something, and was able to say something, in comfort to him.

"Then how can you let him die?" The question was left unanswered to Obi-Wan who felt blackness wash over him as the guard wrenched his shoulders around, and the whip fell again, this time cutting a line across his face.


	5. Uncertainty

Anakin waited in silence, timing was everything. The Queen was in the refresher, speaking to him through an open door as she shimmied into her night clothes. He waited outside the door, his saber hilt extended in his hand. She was talking quietly, and he wanted to shudder with disgust at the suggestion her words were tinged with. They also made him realize how much he missed Padme, the simple, quiet intimacy of being someone who actually cared for him and did not see him simple a means for satisfaction.

He responded equivocally to her words though, feigning interest as he fought to keep his disgust off of his lips. He heard her coming, and she stepped out of the refresher. He moved quickly, his motions guided by the force; his real hand clamped over her mouth, his arms pinning her hands to her sides, his metal hand pressing a lightsaber into her side.

He could feel her ragged, angry breathing on her hand, and kept his fingers forward so she wouldn't be able to bite him. "You're going to tell the guards to leave," He shifted them towards the com station near her large, gilded bed. "Try anything, and I'll kill you."

He moved his hand from her mouth, and she did not scream. He clamped that hand around her wrist and guided her over to the table. The fury that had settled in his stomach over the last few days, the cold, aching feeling of hopelessness. "What kind of Jedi, Skywalker, that would kill someone unarmed?"

"You're a slaver, Queen." HE said coldly in her ear, surprised by the loathing that made its way into his own voice. "Your death would mean the liberation of thousands." He let that hang in the air between them, wanting her to realize how little he cared about her life. How little he cared about her surviving the escape. He activated the Holo-Pad.

"Tell them to leave." He snarled at her, feeling his grip on her becoming tighter. He tried to calm himself, listening to her give the order to the guards and the Holo-Pad shut off. He reached out for the calming power of the force, but it had risen in him, powerful and surging through his blood, all peace that could be offered for it right out of his reach. He reached out for Ashoka, she was sleeping, not even in the meditation that had brought him peace during the day time.

His connection with his master was still fuzzy, and after the horrific visions he had gotten from connecting to Dooku, he didn't risk it. He pushed the Queen through her door into the abandoned corridor. "What are you hoping to gain from this, Skywalker? A return to your life as a slave for your Republic?"

"This is about more than you are capable of understanding, slaver." He spat back at her as they made it outside, the guard he had tricked earlier having abandoned his post just as Anakin had planned.

"Your friend Kenobi?" She seemed incredulous. "I hardly think the Jedi is worth all of this trouble." His finger twitched over the activation button of his lightsaber, desperation to find his old master, his father figure, his best friend, welling up in his chest. Instead, he focused his concentration as they came to where Ashoka's cage was swinging gently in the wind. He lifted it carefully through the air, depositing her safely onto the platform.

She blinked up at him, and in an easy motion, removed the shock collar form around her throat, and climbed form the cage with his help. "Took you long enough, Skyguy." Her gentle smile put him at ease, but her brow was creased with worry as she looked at him.

"Let's get to the ships." He pushed the queen in front of them, following them into the courtyard where ships were waiting. Ashoka reclipped her lightsaber he had seized to her belt, keeping a hand on it, but the queen had done her work, they were alone. Ashoka led them to a loading ramp, and Anakin moved to follow her, the Queen suddenly whipping around his grip, thrashing against his hold.

"You can't have thought this was going to be this easy!" She hissed, and he felt the surge of guards behind him.

"Get the ship moving!" He yelled to Ashoka, who dashed inside, and started up the engines. Behind them were all of the palace guards, electrowhips, electrojabbers, blasters all ready to take on Anakin. The Queen twisted, and managed to free herself from the grip of his human arm, but his metal hand, unencumbered by the same reactions as his flesh held her tight. He activated his lightsaber, the solid blue blade extending in front of her throat.

"We're leaving in this ship." He said to them as she stopped struggling against him knowing that he wouldn't hesitate to kill her. "Try and stop us, and she dies." The guards stilled, their feline and reptilian features hardening coldly against him. Anakin realized that they had no loyalty to the queen, only to her money and her power. He hoped that would be enough. He walked them backwards up the ramp, and they stayed silent, It started to close, the ship hovering in the air off the landing platform, before the planes of Zygerria disappeared below them. "Serenno, Ashoka!" He heard her shout of assent, and the rapidly increasing motions of the ship as they began to push through the atmosphere. A wave of darkness, thick, black, encompassing swept over him.

He pushed the queen to the nearest wall, pulling chains through the air to hold her there, her eyes trained on him as he collapsed from the weight of another vision.  
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Dooku kneeled again in front of the main comlink consul in his own room, the hovering form of his master above him. "What progress have you made, my apprentice?"

"The clone has started to break, my master. It has taken work, but soon he will tell us all we need." Dooku's voice was calm, he had good news to report, news of security and promise to his master. "Kenobi has little strength left, the clone has realized this."

"Good." There was silence in the air between them. "I am surprised by how long it has taken Skywalker to come. Perhaps I overestimated the bond between him and Kenobi."

"Miraj has done her part well, Master. Isolating Skywalker has been the key part of this plan."

"She has proven to be a valuable asset. As has the connection between yourself and Skywalker."

"The connection between us?" Dooku was taken aback, and could not hide the startled outlook of his aging features. "I was unaware of any connection."

"It was a design of my own making." Sidious' voice was tinged with the hint of a laugh. "TO show him Kenobi's downfall, show him the power of the darkside of the force. He harbors much resentment for you, my apprentice. The fight between you that cost him his arm left more than a physical scar, it seems. A mark of rage, a start of the path to the darkside that reacts when he is around you. Exploiting that has been one of my better ideas."

Dooku stayed silent, suddenly uneasy. Sidious was speaking of Skywalker as though he wanted the Jedi to grow strong in the darkside of the force, to be powerful, vengeful, and unbalanced. He was using Dooku to make that happen, and a twinge of uncertainty ran up the former Jedi's spine. "Do not worry, my young apprentice. Skywalker is far from a match for you, who are learned in the ways of the force." The hooded figure betrayed no emotion, and Dooku had no choice but to nod. "As for Kenobi, finish what we need quickly, use the clone. The fortress you have built will not keep them apart forever. He may know your location already, if that is true, then time grows short. He has made no report to the Jedi, as far as I can tell, no request for Senate ships, when he does I will tell you. Kill Kenobi then, his use to us will be gone."

"Yes, master." Dooku bowed again, and the hologram disappeared. He rose, looking out into the night sky of Serreno through the massive window he kept behind his bed. He could see the prison, holding the clone and what was left of Kenobi inside, and felt cold rage surge within him. Not at the broken, dying Jedi, nor his clone pet, but at his master. For the first time since they had begun this venture, Dooku doubted his place at his master's side, was he, a Dark Lord of the Sith, to be replaced by an irrational child?  
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Anakin opened his eyes to Ashoka's face, Queen Miraj's face behind hers still chained tight to the wall. "Master, are you all right?" She had her hands, gently shaking his shoulders. He blinked, feeling the surging power of the darkside around himself, lingering after the breaking of his connection with Dooku. The man in the hologram, he was the Sith Lord. Dooku was his apprentice.

"Master, I was planning to contact the temple as soon as we exit hyperspace."

"No, Ashoka." He bolted upright, remembering the Sith Lord's words. "We cannot involve the Jedi."

"Master, I know that this was an off the books kind of mission, but we'll need the Republic fleet if we're going to invade Serenno. It's defense are nearly impenetrable either way, even with a full fleet of starships."

"If we involve the council, call for Senate ships, they'll kill Obi-Wan." He said, standing up to face her, willing her to accept the resignation in his tone.

"Without help of some kind, we're never going to get through anyway!" She said, refusing to acknowledge that they might kill Obi-Wan.

"Then we'll have to look elsewhere." He said, trying to keep his voice level. He understood the gravity of what she was saying, and knew she was right. But they could not call the Republic. The Sith, he would know, he would send the order. This would all be for nothing, and Obi-Wan would be killed. "Let's see what we can find in neighboring star systems, Snips." He put a hand on her shoulder, and followed her to the cockpit, leaving the Queen snarling at the pair of them.

He sat next to her, going through the systems they were surrounded by. Serenno, home of Dooku, was the epicenter of the Seperatists, only a few star systems were Republic friendly anywhere near them. Ashoka flipped through them, but Anakin was unable to concentrate, unable to keep his focus on her words or the endless systems before them. His thoughts were with the Sith, the connection that had been established with Dooku. The Sith had been watching him, then, for years, growing all the unease Anakin had felt with the order and within his own self. But there was something else, something more than that. He had been raised, since coming to the temple at age nine, that the Sith were evil. That their presence was overpowering with the darkside of the force, that they were strong, intimidating, and cruel. This Sith had been more than that.

This Sith had been familiar.


	6. Alliance

Rex had spent the last several minutes trying to figure out how to move Obi-wan up onto his side without hurting him anymore. He had decided that there really wasn't a way to do it, and slid his hands under Obi-wan's arms, turning him to his side. The lash marks that still seeped blood were started oozing sideways, but, to Rex's relief, the blood from the slash across his face started to run towards the floor instead of into his mouth. He kept his hand on the general, holding him up as much as he could with both of his legs fastened to the wall.

He looked down at his leg, whip marks cutting in the skin, but the thing that worried Rex the most was the broken bone that was sticking out still under the brown trousers. If the bone started to heal incorrectly, it would only be much worse after they got out of this hell when they had to re-break it. It needed to be set. He looked down at the General's drawn face, even in unconsciousness, his features were pulled tight in pain. "Sorry, General." He figured it would be better to set the bone while the man was unconscious, and he sent up a silent prayer that he wouldn't wake up.

He pulled Obi-Wan closer to him, the chains holding him to the wall loose enough to allow free movement if the General could ever have managed to move himself. He put his hand on the broken leg, it was sheared clean through the shin bone, not unlike some battlefield wounds Rex had treated after their last set of fighting on Geonosis. He looked at Obi-Wan's face, but he was still blacked out of world. He pulled at one of the cut parts of the Jedi's trousers, tearing the piece of clothing off below the knee. He twisted in his hands, wounding it into a tight string of rope. Trying not to think of the General's state, or the overwhelming feeling of guilt he had, he took both parts of the injured leg in his hands, and in a quick jerk, reset the bone.

To his relief, Obi-Wan didn't move, he tied the removed pant leg around his the area, knotting it tightly to hold the bone set in place, but loose enough to help with the circulation. He moved back form the General, leaning against the wall, letting out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding in. The Jedi had been through an excruciating amount of torture since they had been here. And still, Rex had not heard him scream, complain, and he certainly had not told Dooku any information.

Unlike Rex. The guilt was eating him. He had betrayed his brothers, his Commanding Officer. They were beating Kenobi, more than prepared to kill him unless Rex gave them something. But the General had told him not to, prepared to die so that Dooku not get the information he wanted. But Rex could not allow for that, his duty was to protect his Jedi, even this one, who was ready to die. Finally, only one answer in, Dooku had stopped the torture and brought them back here, apparently satisfied. Rex closed his eyes, trying not to think about it. IF one small answer, inconsequential to the war effort, really, had saved the Jedi, then it had to be worth it.  
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In the black fog of his mind, Obi-Wan could feel a sharp stab of pain; but such things were almost commonplace to him now, and it did not fully jerk him out of the haze he was in. It did pull him awake enough to realize how much the rest of his body was in agony, he could feel his blood pouring form his body like it was sweat, he could taste it and feel a cut that split diagonally across both of his lips and up to the corner of his face. He couldn't open his eyes quite yet, trying to remember, through a red haze, what had happened to put him in this state.

"Rex…" Or at least, he thought he had. It was unclear, his ears could barely make out any noise besides an entrenched ringing that had settled into his head. "Rex, did you tell them anything?"

He remembered the clone had been questioned, and as Obi-Wan lay there, he realized the only reason he was still alive meant that the Clone must have answered one of Dooku's questions. He did not fault him for it, he knew the Captain was loyal to his orders, but he would not let the Jedi die.

"It was about Senator Amidala, Sir, her relationship with General Skywalker." The clone sounded like he felt almost as bad as Obi-Wan did.

"It's alright, Rex. You did what you need to." He opened his eyes, hearing a scraping noise and saw the clone pushing a metal cup towards him. He drank the water gratefully, feeling it mix with the taste of coppery blood in his mouth.

"I'm sorry General, they were going to kill you." Obi-Wan tried to sit up more, but his arms were weak. He could tell his own weakness from blood loss, and as he shifted, it put pressure on his broken leg. He looked down, realizing that the jolt of pain that had stirred him must have been Rex setting his bone, a blood soaked cloth wrapped around his leg, holding his bone in place in a makeshift brace.

"It's alright." He said, resigning to lay back down on the floor. He wanted to sleep. More than that, though, he wanted his connection the force back. He raised red fingers to the suppressor on his chest, toying with the idea of trying to ripping it out. He almost laughed to himself, at the thought that might be what finished him off. In a moment of absurdity, he could feel the laugh bubbling to his chest. It was almost relieving, to feel the aching, burning sensation coming from something almost self-inflicted.

It served as proof, he thought, that Dooku did not control him yet. Not all of the pain, all his emotions, all his thoughts were theirs yet. He stopped moving, using his own damaged arm as a pillow, the blood running in thin lines down his face, and let black waves run over him; his own thoughts drifting to Anakin and Senator Amidala, wondering if what he had worried about so many years ago had been true after all. Wondering what Rex had known to say to Dooku.

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"Master, this isn't getting us anywhere." Ashoka said, and Anakin knew she was right. They were heading towards a losing battle, now dawdling in the Serreno system, outside the range of any scanners of the planet. "We have to call for some kind of help."

"There has to be a friendly system here somewhere, Snips." He starred pouring back over the astronomical charts, trying to look for something, anything that could help them. Naboo was nearby, but their fleets were interconnected directly with the Senate fleets. And, somewhere in the back of Anakin's mind, he did not want Padme knowing about what he was soon to attempt. He flipped through more pages, the planets flagged by the dozen as Separatist sympathizers. And then he saw it. A neutral system.

"We could contact Mandalore." He remembered back to his and Obi-Wan's mission to Mandalore, his master's former ambiguous relationship with the Duchess Satine Kryze. "They might help us."

"Isn't the Duchess a major pacifist?" Ashoka looked at him like he had grown a second head. He realized she was probably right, Satine had been unwilling to compromise on her ideals, arguing for weeks in the Senate to maintain her planet's neutrality and keep the Republic from her system at all costs. But Ashoka didn't know about the interaction Anakin had seen between the Duchess and Obi-Wan while they were being held hostage by Merrick. And, as he flipped through the rest of the astrocharts, she might be the only option they had. Involving the Council was too high of a risk.

"It's worth a shot." He said, and punched in the distress call to the Mandalore high council. He coded it as a Jedi message, realizing that they probably wouldn't answer if they thought it was a ship from Zygerria. "Go take care of the Queen, I'll talk to the Duchess."

IF she had looked at him strangely before, that was nothing to now. But she did as he commanded. He needed the privacy to speak with Satine, compromising Obi-Wan over things he was uncertain of to begin with was not something to do in front of his apprentice. His call was answered in moments, a pale, brooding looking man answering the call as a tiny blue hologram on the dash.

"To what does the Mandalore high council owe the pleasure, Master Jedi?" The man spoke in the formal tone that Anakin never could quite make himself match. He usual left useless delegations to Obi-Wan. The thought hit him in the stomach, but he pushed through it, doing his best to ignore it. "And we have many members inquiring as to why you are contacting us using a Zygerrian freighter from a different planet's system?"

"I need to speak with Duchess Satine immediately. This is Anakin Skywalker."

"I assure you the Duchess is quite busy at the time. I'm sure she will be able to contact you again in a few days."

"I don't have a few days!" Anakin didn't have the patience for orianry diplomatic proceedings, let alone whatever the hell kind of proceedings these were. "Tell her its Anakin Skywalker, I need to speak with her regarding Obi-Wan Kenobi." Despite the fact that the man in front of him was a hologram, Anakin could see his surprise at Obi-Wan's name being mentioned.

"I will see if she will speak to you. Keep the communication open." And the tiny blue form disappeared. Anakin waited, fiddling with the controls, hearing Ashoka seeking words that he couldn't make out through the layers of the ship to the queen. He thankfully didn't have to wait long.

Instead of the brooding man, the Duchess came into his view, along with a young man who very much resembled her. "Jedi Master Skywalker it has been a long time. Is Master Kenobi with you?"

Again, he felt the punch to his stomach, but ignored it. "May I speak with you in private, Duchess?"

"This is only my nephew, Korkie." She said, indicating the man who bowed slightly. "He is familiar with your Padawan, Master Skywalker; and respectfully asks to be included on our conversation."

Anakin didn't have time to argue. "Obi-Wan isn't with me. He's been taken from a slave camp on Zygerria by Count Dooku." He could read the shock and horror on her normally pallid features. "He's in a Separatist war prison on Serenno. I'm calling to ask for your help in rescuing him, Duchess."

"Why was he in a slave camp to begin with?" Her words were carefully measured, and any other time, Anakin would have admired her dedication to detail before commiting herself to an assessment. She was very much like his master, calculating, yet kind.

"A humanitarian mission, your grace. He was taken their after attempting to free a captured slave. He was working as a slave in one of the camps before being taken by Count Dooku." He waited on her to say something else, the seconds feeling like minutes. "Will you help me?"

"Why has the Jedi Order not sent a rescue party?"

"We have strong reason to believe that there is an informant within the Senate." He swallowed thickly, thinking of the Sith Lord. "If we contact the Temple or the Senate for aid, they will kill him."

She was silent, but Anakin, through years of practice, knew when not to speak. "You realize, Master Jedi, that to send you aid would be to declare open war on the Separatists. If the connection was ever drawn between your rescue mission and my planet, our peaceful diplomatic position would be at its end. That is not something I can do to my people." And Anakin heard the unsaid ending to that phrase. Not even for Obi-Wan.

"I understand Duchess, but without your aid, I'm afraid we have no hope of saving him." But he could see that her decision was set. He wanted to be angry at her, to yell at her for not helping, but he could not. The only emotion that overtook him was grief, and the wallowing feeling of hopelessness that had settled uncomfortably into his stomach.

"I cannot do it, Skywalker." And she turned to Korkie, who was bowed slightly to her. "I must go."

Anakin waited on the hologram to disappear, but it didn't. The Duchess vanished from it, but the man, roughly the same age as his Padawan, stayed in view. "Mandalore cannot send help, Master Jedi." His accent reminded Anakin of Obi-Wan's, and he wondered why he felt the need to repeat that. "At least officially. I will be arriving shortly in a private set of freighters. We do not have the soldiers needed, or the arms to support a fight. But we will help you as best we can. Send your coordinates, if you will; we will be arriving at your and Padawan Tano's location shortly." The blue hologram disappeared, and as if in some daze, he typed in the coordinates of their ship, looking through the glass down at the green and blue swirl of Serenno.

He heard Ashoka slide open the door behind him and step into the cockpit, taking her place in the co-pilot's chair. "So, the Queen's a little bit upset." She said, looking over at him, watching him carefully. "What did she say?"

"Not much." He answered. And she let out a defeated sigh, rubbing her hands up his face. "They'll be here in about half an hour."

She stared at him, incredulously. "Do a remember a guy named Korkie?"


	7. Stategy

Anakin was almost surprised at the warmness Ashoka showed to Korkie. As soon as he came on board, she embraced him, and the two seemed happy to have reunited as a pair again. Anakin realized this must be the leader of the group she had inadvertently coerced into trying to overthrow their government leader, and he couldn't help but smile to himself. But their time was growing short, he could feel Dooku's anger buzzing through his own body, the dark side of the force beginning to penetrate recesses of his mind even he didn't know existed, and linger there. He tried to shut them out, to resist t pressure, but it was a mostly futile attempt as the onslaught grew stronger and stronger.

"Master Skywalker, it is nice to meet you." He looked an incredible amount like the Duchess, the same slender nose and slightly elongated face, but to Anakin he seemed somewhat friendly as he touch the hand the Mandalorian offered him. "I'm sorry it has to be under these circumstances."

"Thank you for your help." He said, stepping back, watching Korkie who viewed Queen Miraj, where Ashoka had shackled her to a chair with piqued interest. "She is the owner of the ship, a slaver queen of Zygerria." Korkie's eyes narrowed at the mention of slavery, and he turned away from her, his face slightly contorted in disgust.

"I fear that we don't have the arms, the authority, or the ability to launch an invasion of Serreno. And the Duchess would never allow it either, there is too much risk involved." He held Anakin's gaze, and the Jedi wondered briefly if he had ever considered a career in the Senate.

"We are not asking for an invasion force. We only need enough firepower and distraction to make a landing and stage a rescue."

"Do you have an exact plan for that?" Ashoka pulled a holo-disk from her utility belt and from it a map of Serreno spread between the three of them.

"The prison is here," she indicated with one hand, levitating the disk so she could use both. "The only landing platforms are to far away, we'll be destroyed well before we get there. Skyguy and I will have to land this ship on the plane near the back of the prison." She indicated an open field resting between what looked like a castle-like fortress, and an incredibly expensive mansion.

"What would you have us do?" Korkie asked, nodding his head quietly along as she indicated the motions.

"We'll need you to draw their fire and attention to different point so we can make the landing." Anakin took over, indicating the pock-marked cannons and defensive grid lines that would destroy their ship as soon as Dooku saw it. "They'll see us, but as soon as we're landed, we can activate the ray shields that will give us enough cover to withstand their power." While Korkie had been bringing his armies in, Ashoka had explored the ship, finding all manners of defensive weaponry on board. The thought of it sickened Anakin, it was easier, he supposed, to take unsuspecting people into slavery when they had no chance of destroying your ship.

"How do you plan to escape, then?"

"Well…" Anakin rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ward off the feeling of anger that was swelling as Dooku's signature grew stronger while they started to orbit Serreno at a closer and closer proximity.

"You can draw their fire again." Ashoka said finally, rolling her eyes. "We can destroy their main blast cannons with these thermal charges, and we should be clear in the airspace."

"Assuming that Count Dooku will not have weaponry of his own." Anakin could see that Ashoka was admiring Korkie's thoughtfulness to the plan, but it was honestly just making the loss of Obi-Wan hit him harder, like a low blow into his stomach.

"Ashoka and I will handle Dooku. He won't make it back to his estate to load any extra weaponry."

"Mandalore cannot assist in a mission with the intent to murder another being, Master Skywalker."

"We'll take him hostage if we can." Ashoka assured him, and Anakin nodded his consent, although his metal fingers curled at the thought of Dooku surviving after all he had done. "Come with me, and I'll give you what defensive weapons we can." Ashoka said, and Korkie followed her, bringing the two guards he had brought with him to assist.

Anakin returned to the co-pilot's chair, running through the plan in his head. Dooku didn't know they were coming, he seemed almost unbalanced. Something was bothering him severely, Anakin could feel it, but he did not know what it was. He ran his hands over his face, trying to concentrate on the mission, trying to push the familiar Sith from his thoughts, and Dooku's anger form his head. Ashoka clamored back in, taking a seat next to him.

"Just so you know, the Queen says she hopes we all die so she can have her ship back, and that she'll gladly see us in the Sith's Hells." Ashoka grinned up at him. "But we're ready to launch when you are."

Anakin looked down brifly at the planet they were coming into, and watched as the unmarked Mandalorian freighters moved past them to start the assault. He let out a long breath, thinking only of Obi-Wan, and slammed the controls forward.

'I'm coming, Obi-Wan.'

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"I think 'e might be dead, Sir." A gruff, growling human voice sounded above him. "He 'asn't moved all day."

"He isn't dead, you idiot." Dooku's voice was tempered with uncontrolled rage. His thick, pompous accent shone through his words and actions to the guard. "He's simply injured. Get the clone, I'll get the Jedi."

The guard mumbled something, taking hold of Rex instead, and Obi-Wan felt himself being levitated off of the floor. His body groaned in protest as gravity pulled at his limbs, but it relieved the pressure off of his back, the deep wounds hurting less than when he had been lying on the floor. "As soon as the clone gives me what I want, you can die, Kenobi." Dooku said into his ear, but Obi-Wan was not comforted. He did not want death, he wanted to be free of this pain, to be with the force again; but death was not the solution that he sought. It was not the Jedi answer, not matter the pain their path brought them or the loss they endured.

He wanted to say something clever. He wanted to speak but when he tried, he spit blood from his mouth, not on purpose, it was more of a spray that came from him.

"I couldn't imagine more pleasant company." Dooku's words were heavily sarcastic as he looked down in disgust at a droplet of blood that had fallen onto his boot tip. Obi-Wan felt himself be pushed roughly to the wall, hands shackled above his head, and the familiar questioning start. He tried to ignore Dooku's words, like always, Rex refused to start giving answers right away. Obi-Wan had told him not to. But today, instead of beating him with a whip like usual, the guard was holding something metal in his hands.

As Rex shook his head, refusing to answer the question, Dooku flicked a hand at him, and in a quick moment, in smashed into Obi-Wan's ribs. Nothing broke, at least not the first time, but the more into the questions they got, the more he could feel blood pushing against his lips from the inside. And still, he looked at Rex and shook his head to every question, giving a command that his tired, abused lungs could no longer speak. And the Captain stayed silent, although Obi-Wan thought he saw a tear welling up at his eyes. Although, Obi-wan considered that it could have very easily have been his own.

Then the door swung open, and what looked like a person came into Obi-Wan's very blurred view. He spat out a mouthful of blood at the feet of his attacker, and whatever had come in gasped. Protocol droid. "Sir, it appears we have several unmarked vehicles in the airspace."

"Have they sent any transmissions?" Dooku asked, and Obi-Wan could hear his anger at being interrupted. "Are they with the Senate?"

"No, Sir. We would have alerted you immediately. They carry no viable signal. And they do not appear heavily armed."

"Destroy them. Use the blockade cannons. Do not release the droids unless it is necessary."

"Yes, sir." And it retreated from the cell.

"If you'll excuse me for a moment, I have other business that needs to be dealt with, it seems." The guard followed him out, and the metal door slammed shut behind them, the lock clamping into place.

There was a long silence, Obi-Wan could not speak, e could feel new bruises forming on his body, under his skin, and in his chest. It was more difficult to draw breath, not to mention the constant spittin g f blood he was having to do from his mouth. Finally, though, Rex broke the silence.

"I'd almost thought maybe they'd come back for us, General." Obi-Wan didn't think he had ever heard a more miserable person, clone or otherwise. "Maybe it's best that we've been forgotten here. No one has to die to come find us. This place is a fortress. The cannons alone are enough to take out most of a battalion. Not to mention the droids." The Commander trailed off, and Obi-Wan could barely see him hanging his head.

He had a sudden memory, strong and irreconcilable. Anakin had been like this once, after their fight with Dooku on Geonosis. At the time, Obi-Wan had attributed it to his lost arm, and the severing of his close connection to Senator Amidala who he clearly grown so close to. However, almost two weeks after their return to the temple, Master Yoda had quietly informed him that Anakin's mother had died, and that Anakin was aware of what had happened to her. He had not known then, what to do for his apprentice. The lively, wired young man had been sullen for days, but then, when he was around him, would send calming waves through the force, waves that he himself had found soothing after Qui-Gon's death on Naboo. He had been sitting in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, and had heard his apprentice come in, sitting opposite him in quiet meditation. Meditation had never been Anakin's strong suit, but that quiet time spent together had been when Obi-Wan started to feel the rehashing of their bond, and the release of Anakin's grief into the force. It had not been an easy time, and one he would not want to relive, but one he could feel the same emotions stemming from the clone soldier.

He wanted to reach out to him, but his force connection, controlled by the suppressor cutting into his chest, would not allow it. He could not send Rex help as he had sent Anakin. He looked over at the Commander, thinking of how many of the Jedi regarded their clones simply as soldiers, warriors, means to an end. They were wrong. They were living beings, capable of every spectrum of emotion. Without Rex, there was a good chance he would be dead. He knew the clone had been giving Obi-Wan his water and food for the most part since they had arrived, how Rex's small answers had kept him alive, how his pain had torn at the Commander. But he could offer little to soothe him now, especially when the Commander's words seemed to ring so true.

"Always.." He tried to speak, spraying red over his front where it simply mixed with the rest. "Always hope."


	8. United

Ashoka watched from the co-pilot's seat as the alarms signaled on the castle, well before she had thought they would, and the cannons began training on the Mandalorian ships. They fired electric pulses, but as she watched, the ships dipped and flipped around them. She and Anakin waited, keeping well behind them, until it seemed clear enough for them to break through the line. They stayed low, avoiding the clear air around the temple as her master navigated expertly through every obstacle they faced, a feat when considering the kind of craft he was piloting.

She watched him, his hands gripping the controls, and realized she was worried about him. Severely. Anakin always smiled, or joked on missions to relieve tension. He was easygoing, and didn't take himself to seriously. As Ashoka had spent time with him, she came to realize what a different kind of Jedi he really was, but also how much he needed Jedi like Master Kenobi to keep him balanced.

She could feel his force signature almost interrupting every few minutes. It wasn't the normal, erratic but strong pulse she was used to. It was still erratic, but almost harrowing. When she had been meditating on Zygerria, she had felt him reach out to her through the force for balance; she realized for the first time how unbalanced he could be, especially in situations such as this one. For the first time, he did not seem like her overconfident, extrapolating master. He seemed very human, and almost fragile.

She pursed her lips, and thought instead of Master Kenobi. She could not feel his force presence at all, unlike Anakin's his was steady and strong and full of light. He was easy to connect to, but hard to crack into; she respected the older Jedi for not only his abilities, but his dedication to the ideals of the order, and over time, in her traveling with Anakin, she had come to love him as her master did. Not being able to feel him, reach out to him at all, was disturbing. She could only imagine, knowing how close they were, how it must feel for Anakin.

"I've got a bad feeling about this." Her suspicions were right, as he spoke, his voice had lost all of its humor, holding a hard edge that she had never heard from him. He landed the ship expertly in the field, in an almost silent whisper it settled onto the grass. She had to admit the planet was beautiful, but then again so was Zygerria. This place radiated evil. It knew evil more than most places she had felt.

"We've can do this, Master." She tried to exude confidence, but the same feeling of dread, an almost physical, draining sensation had come over her as well. "We've done difficult missions before."

He looked at her, and gave a very faint hint of a smile. She tried to reach out to him through their bond, but it was frazzled, and he wasn't reciprocating, keeping her at bay.

"Let's go." He said, taking his lightsaber hilt into his hand, charging out of the cockpit. He didn't acknowledge the still chained up queen on his way out, but Ashoka couldn't help but look at her.

"You are a slave, as he is, Togruta." She spat at her, her felinoid features full of loathing. "And neither of you know what waits for you here."

"I'll guess we'll just have to see."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Dooku could feel something. He watched the pilots of the invasive ships dodge around his defenses, never attempting an attack, never attempting to get close. He knew they were serving as a distraction, that much was clear, but he had received no word from his master of Skywalker attempting a rescue. He watched the ships, knowing eventually they would run out of tricks, and the end would come for them; he had more important things to worry about.

He walked from the palace guard, taking quick steps, and leaving his cape over one of the railings. Whatever he could feel was powerful and resonated with cold fury. His unease, the same feeling that had been rising within him since his and Sidious' conversation about Skywalker had settled in his chest. And the force, usually within such easy reach for him, only buzzed with the anger and resentment that gave the dark side its power. He had always relied on the peace that came from his force training as a Jedi. But now that seemed to have abandoned him as his master may have.

Dooku had known when joining the Sith that they held no loyalty to each other, only power. Power he could feel now, pulsing from within but also outside of him. IT was a strange power, one he had not felt before. He had never considered himself to be particularly close to many people, he had few friends for a variety of reasons; beings could not be trusted, they would always betray you be it through actually physical betrayal, accidental grievances, or dying when you needed them most. He turned to exit the mansion, seeing in front of him the outside of the prison, but more than that, something about the scene was off.

His eyes were not what they used to be, but the power of the force gave him impeccable perception. He saw the glint of silver behind the prison, in the courtyard that had once served as the resting grounds for the political prisoners that had been housed on Serreno. A ship. One step closer. A Zygerrian freighter to be exact.

He quickened his pace, drawing the curved hilt of his lightsaber into his hand. The power he could feel on Serreno spiked, and this time, he could feel for certain the emotion behind it. Hatred. Pure, untampered loathing that pulsed like a breathing animal from inside the prison's walls. Agony, not physical, but emotional pain beyond the pretext of what could be imagined. And determination, buried under all of it, curling like a snake, waiting to strike.

Skywalker was here. He saw what was true too late, he had not done as his master had asked. In order for Skywalker to feel that, he must have found Kenobi, clinging to some small grain of life that only lasted because of his staunch refusal to die. He felt that power, through their bond their master had created, and knew he could harness it in ways that Skywalker could not.

His master did not understand his power. Skywalker did not understand what was coming.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Anakin Skywalker was breaking. He was on his knees in a dark cell of a Serenno prison, cradling his former master's head lying limply in his hands. Obi-Wan wasn't dead, but only just barely. His body was mangled, his usually well kempt hair stained black, and slick with blood, his upper body a collection of cuts and bruises and crushed ribs that he could tell were asymmetrical. Whip marks cut all along his body, the wounds letting blood pulse quietly from his back, his chest, his stomach, his legs, his face, coating his body and the floor with it. His leg was broken, the only thing holding it in place a piece of his Jedi trousers that were stained red and knotted loosely around his shin.

When he found him, Anakin knew that it was Obi-Wan, but he did not want to believe it. He was so thin, his time both on Kadavo, and then on Serenno stripping anything extra he had away from his bones. His muscles were cut by the whips, and when Anakin had help him as he had taken him down off the wall, he had recoiled, even in his unconscious state, from his touch. Anakin had lowered him gently, trying to send soothing waves through the force to him, but he could find no peace himself, not here.

"General." Ashoka must have freed Rex, but Anakin did not look up at them, using his sleeve to wipe a line of blood from Obi-Wan's face. "Sir, we have to leave. Let me help you with him."

Part of Anakin wanted to yell at his Commander, yell at him for trying to make Obi-Wan move when clearly he was in so much pain. The other part knew he was right. He looked down at the clone, his face thin, his blonde hair grown out much longer, covering a head wound to his left temple. His eyes were clouded, Anakin realized that he too had been tortured. Not to the brink of death, like his master. To the brink of something else.

"Let me carry him, Sir." Rex said, putting one arm under Obi-wan's legs, and the other under his shoulder blades. "I won't be much use in a fight right now, anyway." Anakin could only watch in silence as the clone, weak form his time in prison, but determined to do this for Obi-Wan, lifted him gently. Obi-Wan stirred, trying to pull the skin of his back away from Rex's touch, but couldn't manage and let out a soft groan instead, then coughed, splattering the clone's bare chest with a spray of red.

Anakin rose slowly form the floor, realizing that he had tears on his face. He didn't wipe them, or his hands, which were covered in blood. He didn't look at Ashoka, but he could see her mouth opening to speak. He kept his eyes on his master, who choked out another cough into Rex's chest, his arm hanging limply at his side. Ashoka led them back into the hallway, and Anakin could vaguely hear the sound of the cannons still firing in the distance. The bag of charges he was carrying suddenly felt incredibly heavy, but more than that, he could feel a chill running up into his spine.

"Ashoka, go with Rex, get Obi-Wan to the ship." He said quickly, igniting his lightsaber. She opened her mouth to protest. "Do it now!"

"I'm afraid it's far too late for that, Skywalker." Dooku stepped into view, glowing red from the blade of his own saber. "No one is going to be leaving. Not that it makes much difference to Kenobi, I doubt he'd survive the trip."

"Master!" He was aware of Ashoka's yell at him, but it was background noise, a buzz that made no impact on his decisions as he ran, with the fury of madman, leaping through the prison hallway to where Dooku was standing, smiling as he had when Anakin had attacked this way the first time on Geonosis


	9. Culmination

He could feel Dooku's anger, his spitting hatred, and he fed from it. The Sith had connected them, and as he felt his lightsaber blade connect with Dooku's, he curled his lip upwards at what a mistake that had been. He was done pushing down his feelings, done trying so hard to eliminate all that he had been forced to repress the last three weeks at the horror of slavery, his own mental abuse, his apprentice's imprisonment. Everything, every piece of range, anger, and fury that he had ever felt had broken into a surging flood when he saw Obi-Wan, his best friend, his surrogate father tortured and dying.

He pulled back and swung hard at Dooku, and the Sith apprentice parried each strike he made. He moved faster, and faster, feeling himself becoming more and more entranced by his own movements. Only on Mortis, controlling the opposing siblings of the force, had he ever felt this powerful. But Dooku was skilled and not easily defeated. Through their connection, now growing stronger as they were close together, he could feel his strength, and realized that the former Jedi was feeding off of his own.

"Surely, you must have realized it by now, Skywalker." They spun in a circle, twisting and spiraling in blurs of red and blue. "This is not a fight you can win."

Anakin leapt back from him, bracing his knees against the floor as he heard droids roll in. Ashoka drew her twin sabers, and went to deal with them, parrying shots so Anakin could continue his fight with Dooku. Rex still held Obi-Wan, still unmoving, in his arms. He carried the broken General to a corner, trying to find them some cover from the blaster fire.

"I can defeat you, Dooku." Anakin spit out, not bothering to disguise his pure loathing. "You don't know my power."

"I can feel it, Skywalker." Anakin attacked him again,a nd they danced in an arc, each blow landing on the others saber or slicing long blows through empty air. "But if you defeat me, you still have lost."

"I don't think so, Dooku." He landed a hard kick on Dooku's stomach, and the old man staggered. He brought his saber down, but with the precision that only a master of swordsmanship could manage, it was parried by the tip of his red saber.

"You were sent here to kill me, Skywalker."

"I came here to rescue Obi-Wan." They moved back into their dance, Anakin felt the first drops of sweat cut into his hair, running over his forehead.

"Kenobi is as good as dead!" Dooku was practically shouting, his own rage unbalancing him as he fought his much younger opponent. "He was a pawn to bring you here, surely you must see that."

But Anakin had no desire to listen to Dooku's words, nor to think about the factors that had brought him here. He spared a glance at the other half of the room, Ashoka continuing her destruction of battle droids as they squeezed through eh doors of the room, Rex had taken up a blaster rifle from one of their metal bodies and was shooting each of the ones she missed. Obi-Wan was behind a column where he would be safe, lying on his side, and as Anakin looked, he could see a pool of blood thickening around him on the floor.

He felt the force hum through his fingers, not the peaceful, easy feeling he was used to, but pure, unadulterated power. He through a hand up, aiming to launch Dooku feet in the air, but the man saw it coming, sidestepping so that only the cusp of the blow caught him, spinning him sideways. "You are being used!"

"By who, Dooku? Don't preach at me about the corruption of the Jedi." He extended his saber, pointed directly at Dooku's chest, his breathing heavy, and matching the older man's. They circled each other slowly, but he stopped near Obi-Wan, putting himself between his master and the Sith apprentice.

"By the Sith, Skywalker. You must realize you were sent here to kill me, to be my replacement as his new apprentice." Anakin realized that all of the hatred, the rage, the anger he could feel boiling inside of Dooku was not directed at him, at Obi-Wan, at the Order. It was at his master, who had betrayed him.

"I don't know the Sith Lord, Dooku! How can he have sent me here?" Dooku was a liar, he had proven it many times. Obi-Wan had told Anakin of his capture on Geonosis, hos Dooku had tried to convince him that a Sith was in control of the Senate, in control of the Order.

"Do you not realize who it is?" Anakin swung at Dooku again, closing the space between them, but the man yelled over the clashing of their blades, never losing his precise blade control. "I told your stubborn master once, and he didn't believe me either. I have no reason to lie to you, Skywalker."

"Except to save your own life!" And Anakin saw his chance, he pressed forward, and Dooku was forced into a short step back. With one deft swing, the curved hilt of Dooku's lightsaber split in half, the bottom sparking in the Count's grip, and his own blue blade was inches from Dooku's throat. "You'll pay for your cruelty, Dooku."

"Are you going to kill me, Skywalker?" He sneered at him. "I have the answers you seek. But kill me, it is what he wanted you to do all along. I was too foolish to see it, too overconfident." He dropped the remains of his lightsaber to the ground. Anakin hesitated, and in that moment of indecision, Dooku struck. Anakin felt the familiar, sparking, terrible burning pain of force lightning in his chest.

His body convulsed, his lightsaber barely within the grip of his metal hand. He staggered, struggling to breathe under the onslaught of electricity, but he watched through almost closed eyes, and saw his apprentice, fighting in the background, his Commander, tortured but fighting alongside her, his master, who had sacrificed almost everything to save the Jedi he sought to protect. He felt the power within him, the pure, unadulterated power of the force. Both sides, light, dark: the force knew no difference, and as the chosen one, destined to bring it balance, neither did he.

He braced himself, concentrating every bit of power to be an extension of his body, and pushed through the agony, redirecting Dooku's lightning into a single powerful blast that launched the former Jedi feet in the air, slamming him back against the wall, unconscious. Anakin fell to his knees, his power fading as the damage the lightning had caused settled on him, the truth he know faced hitting him. The room was silent, no sounds of droids, of screaming, of war. It did not last.

He heard his apprentice approach him having destroyed half a battalion of bottlenecked droids. "Master…" She did not know what had happened, but she could feel the change within him. The truth was weighing on him like a horrible burden he couldn't shake off. He needed answers, but as he looked past her at Obi-Wan, first his master needed help.

"We have to leave." He reached into his utility belt, and pulled out a pair of stun cuffs. "Put these on Dooku. Put yours on his feet." Ashoka did as she was told, not arguing, simply walking over to the unconscious Sith and taking him into custody.

"He's got Obi-Wan's lightsaber." Ashoka held out the familiar looking blade hilt in her hand, and tossed it to Anakin, who clipped it next to his own.

"Rex." Anakin said, slowly standing, feeling as old as Dooku. "Get Dooku. I'll get Obi-Wan." The clone nodded, Ashoka holding close to him as he carried the unconscious Sith over his shoulder, lest he wake up and try to escape.

Anakin walked slowly, not caring enough to avoid stepping in the slowly seeping blood lines on the floor. He wasn't sure what to feel now. The power he had felt through his and Dooku's bond was collapsing, his bond with Obi-Wan still a harsh static because of what he could now see was a force suppressant jammed into his former master's chest. All he could feel now was pain, pain for Obi-Wan, who had endured so much for so little return, guilt for not coming sooner, and for not realizing the truth. Mostly, he could feel the weight of what he now thought was the truth bearing down on him, he needed answers. The man he had not killed, despite everything he had done to Anakin, to Obi-Wan, to the Jedi Order, to innocent civilians, was the only one with them.

But as he gathered Obi-Wan into his arms, feeling his blood soak into the sweat-soaked, slightly smoking fabric of his tunic, he realized that not only could that wait for another time. It had too.


	10. Redeemer

Ashoka led the way out the prison, through winding halls that were littered with stained glass. In the distance, Anakin could still see the swerving cannons, and the Mandolorians, diligently evading fire as they took their time. "Take out the cannons, Ashoka." She nodded, taking off running as he and Rex came into the field, their ship in sight.

He looked over at Rex, who shifted Count Dooku's weight farther up on his shoulder. The Sith was still heavily unconscious, but that made him entirely dead weight on the malnourished Captain. Rex looked like hell. He was thinner, obviously, some of his muscle mass gone, also smeared with dirt, his hair grown out and matted with blood. His front was striped red form carrying Obi-Wan through the prison, and there was a thick layer of dirt that had settled and smeared into his skin, coloring an old scar where he had been shot on a wayward mission.

Rex noticed Anakin looking at him and tried to give him a smile, but his eyes went down to Obi-Wan and it turned into more of a sickened, angry grimace. Anakin didn't blame him, Obi-Wan felt almost weightless in his arms, slick to hold on to. He hadn't even coughed, as he had been doing earlier, he hadn't moved at all. If it wasn't for the shallow breaths Anakin could see moving his chest, now purple and black with bruising under all of his cuts, he might have thought he was dead.

"Sir." Rex's voice jerked his head up and he looked ahead. Ashoka had gotten to one of the towers, he watched as the final bits of it exploded, followed quickly by the one next to it, and the one following that. He tried a smile that wouldn't come, and quickened his pace to return to the ship. "Sir, who is that?"

He looked up ahead at their ship. Rex hadn't been talking about Ashoka, instead he saw the lithe, angular form of Queen Miraj standing at the base of the loading ramp. She must have gotten out of her chains. She walked towards them, her fingers wrapped around a comlink.

"I was wondering when you would be returning, Skywalker." She almost purred at him. Her eyes swept over the small party, taking in Rex and Dooku with raised eyebrows, Anakin with a glittery smile before her eyes settled on Obi-Wan. To a normal being, the state he was in, mangled, beaten, broken, would have elicited horror, sickness, anger, rage, something strong and unidentifiable. But as Anakin watched, her feline features twisted into a cruel smile, and her eyes shone with pride. He remembered how keen she had been on breaking a Jedi, and here it seemed, she might have managed it. "I've been waiting to make a call."

With what seemed like effort, she moved her gaze from Obi-Wan's body back to Anakin's face. "I think my people will be very glad to have me returned and very interested in what you four can offer them." She looked up again at the sound of Ashoka cutting through the clearing, and flicked her tongue over her lips. "I'm not armed, Jedi. I know you can't kill me." She stepped closer to him, looking down again at Obi-Wan. "Besides, you couldn't put him down fast enough to stop me." Ashoka stood, looking at the Queen, her lightsabers drawn. But Anakin knew she couldn't attack her either. And she was right, he couldn't put Obi-Wan down safely in time to stop her.

She placed a long nail on the com button, igniting the tiny screen before her face froze in shock and pain. She gasped, dropping the com and clutching her side. She looked aghast, betrayed as Anakin had felt for the last few minutes. Slowly, she collapsed, her finals breaths leaving her there on the grass of Serreno, choking out before the light left her.

Anakin looked over, in his hand that wasn't balancing Dooku, Rex had one of the droid commando pistols, the end smoking slightly where he had landed a shot in the Queen's side. "I'm no Jedi." The clone said simply, looking down at the woman who had caused all of this misery for him and Obi-Wan. He stepped around her, continuing towards the ship.

Anakin looked down at her body, knowing that he, as a Jedi, should feel some kind of grief at the loss of life. But she had been a slaver. She looked at other the way you might look at meat, and he knew in his heart he could feel nothing but satisfaction. "Should we take her?" Ashoka asked quietly, and Anakin shook his head.

"Leave her here, they will bury her." To him, even that was more than she deserved, but he had other priorities. He stepped up onto the ship ramp, watching as Rex fastened a still unconscious Dooku to the wall of the holding area, putting extra chains on for weight. "We don't have force cuffs, so these will have to hold him until we get to Coruscant." Anakin nodded his agreement.

"Ashoka, set our course for Coruscant. Contact Korkie and let me speak with him. "Ashoka ran towards the cockpit, and seconds later, Anakin heard the engines roaring. "Rex, come with me to the medical area."

The area had dismally few supplies, with a sick twist to his gut, Anakin realized that if all you were hauling were slaves, you wouldn't bother to purchase medical supplies. There was a package of antimicrobial wipes, and two vials of bacta. Rex did manage to find a sheet, and pillow, arranging the medical sleep couch into a makeshift bed where he could lay his master's body gently. With the wipes, he cleaned his face and the blackened wound on his temple. He sealed it with bacta, but it took all they had to cover that. It seemed, however, to change what had become a fitful unconsciousness into an easier sleep, one where he could lay his head more easily on either side, and have it not be so sensitive.

"If you don't mind, Sir, now that he's stable, I'm going to shower." The clone had, rifling through some of the supply boxes looking for bacta, found some old clothes and a shower room with actual water.

"Of course, Rex." Anakin nodded, taking a seat in one of the chairs across from Obi-Wan's bedside, watching the man turn slightly and his breathing change from quiet gasps to ragged pulses. The clone nodded and turned to leave. "Rex." He twisted back around. "Thank you, for helping him."

"He saved me, Sir. From a lot of things." When Anakin looked up at him, his captain wouldn't meet his eyes, instead looking at Obi-Wan. "I owe him my life and my honor, Sir. I don't know how to express that."

Anakin knew the feeling he was talking about, knowing that when they returned to the temple and Rex had been medically treated, he would be forced to recant all they had survived to the council. That seemed bitter to Anakin, that the two men who had survived and withstood so much would be forced to re-live it. He bit back at his discontent with the restraint he had left, the Jedi Council remained blissfully ignorant of the threat surrounding them. They were blind and playing into the hands of a trap. He needed to speak with Dooku, but pangs hit him as he thought about it, pangs of guilt for Obi-Wan, who as he watched, turned his head to far to the right and let out a soft groan as it pulled at the torn skin there.

"He wants to speak with you." He heard Ashoka's voice, and Korkie's reply. "We're in the airspace, Master." She held out the Holo-Pad, which Anakin took, the young Mandalorian man looking up at him.

"Thank you, Korkie, for all you and your men have done. We have rescued Master Kenobi and have taken Count Dooku into custody." The man nodded his acknowledgement of the gratitude. Anakin hoped he knew that he was being genuine, when he had said the words, they had sounded robotic, forced. They were reminiscent of the weariness that hung about him.

"You are welcome, Master Jedi." He hesitated. "My Aunt would like to know Master Kenobi's condition." Anakin watched Ashoka's raised eyebrows at the news, she had no idea of the past connection between Obi-Wan and the leader of Mandalore.

"We have limited medical supplies aboard the ship, and his injuries are horrific. We're headed to the Grand Republic Medical Center now, and I have hope he will recover." Again, he couldn't keep the forced tone out of his words, but the man in the hologram seemed troubled by the news just as well.

"The Duchess wants you to know she will be arriving on Coruscant shortly after you do for a meeting with the Senate regarding trade embargos that have been put into place. With your permission, she would like to come and see Master Kenobi in person."

"It's the least we could do," Anakin said, and nodded his agreement. "Thank you, again, Korkie, I hope this isn't the last time we meet."

"Nor I, Master Skywalker. Padawan Tano." Ashoka nodded as well, a smile on her face for her Mandalorian friend, before the comlink darkened.

"We should be there, soon Master. I placed a call to the temple, they have the medical unit ready to accept us in the hangar." Anakin nodded at her, suddenly unable to find suitable words. He was tired, he needed sleep, he needed food, he needed peace, he needed Padme. He was glad his apprentice didn't inquire about the Duchess, he didn't have the energy to explain that relationship to her. He wasn't even sure of what it was himself.

Ashoka left his with his thoughts then, returning to guide them through the airspace that they were swift approaching. He held the Holo-Pad in his hands, feeling the need to call someone, but not having anyone her could speak with. If he called the Council, it would distract from the immediate aid of Obi-Wan, who had still not woken up from his unconscious state, even though they had been gone from the prison for hours. If he called Padme, she would be too concerned about his well-being, especially since the reality of his coming obligation was slowly thickening in front of him. The man he really wanted to talk to was dying, he couldn't burden his apprentice with uncertain knowledge. He was alone, isolated in his own realm of thought.

Obi-Wan stirred, not waking, but twisting onto his side, coughing and sputtering in his sleep. Anakin held his arms, propping him up on his side, making sure the blood that came from him didn't all back into his throat. He wanted to do more, needed to do more. He reached out with the force, finally, for the first time since one of their first days on Zygerria, he felt calming waves of it roll through him. The ceaseless burning that had started since his connection with Dooku had stopped when he had defeated him, and although he could feel the hole in the place that was reserved for his oldest friend, he felt much calmer. He stretched out, willing it to extend past himself and into his master. It did as he willed it, to an extent, only able to reach so far until it hit the protracted fore suppressant, and stopped. But Obi-Wan's coughing stopped and he settled back into a more restful state, leaving unconsciousness and drifting into actual sleep.

He sighed, releasing him. His own exhaustion was palpable, he needed sleep. In the hour they had until they returned to Coruscant, he hoped he might get some. He closed his eyes, hearing Rex turn off the Refresher shower and re-enter the room. Obi-Wan would be fine with the Commander watching him, and Anakin would be only inches away. Sleep hit him like a brick, and he let it pull him down into the first sign of release he'd felt in days.


	11. Return

Their landing in the hangar passed in a blur to Anakin. He had woken when they had broken through the airspace, and with Rex's help had gotten both Dooku and Obi-Wan ready to be moved off of the ship. Ashoka had called, and there had been a band of Masters, including Master Windu, who had been waiting as soon as they arrived to take Dooku into prison. It was made easier by the fact that he didn't resist, seemingly disoriented by his prolonged unconsciousness, and enable to break free of the stun cuffs, and then force repressing cuffs that had been placed on him.

A medical staff, fully equipped, had taken Obi-Wan from Anakin's arms off of the loading ramp. He had moved immediately to follow them, but Ashoka's grip on his arm, holding him back so he would not get in the way, kept him from it. It was then he had noticed Master Yoda, standing quietly, his large eyes fixed sadly on Obi-Wan as they carried him.

"Not the first time, this is, that Master Kenobi has faced a great trial." He had addressed Anakin, taking in his appearance, soaked through with a fair amount of blood, his tunic distressed and ripped from both his time on Zygerria and then again on Serenno. "Great loyalty to the Jedi, Master Kenobi has. Great bravery and love."

Anakin did not speak to Yoda, nodding his head in agreement with the master's words, but his mind was elsewhere. He wanted to go to his master, but he knew that he would not be able to see him for a long time. "Master Yoda," He heard Ashoka's voice behind him, and saw another, smaller medical unit move in and take Rex from the ship, moving him to the medical bay. "What happened with the Togrutans?"

Guilt hit Anakin like a punch. In his journey to save Obi-Wan, he had forgotten the colony of slaves they had left behind on Kadavo. "Rescued, they have been by Master Plo Koon. Brave, you all were, in this effort." Ashoka nodded at Yoda, and Anakin saw the relief flash in her eyes before it was again replaced with worry.

"I'm going to change, Master. I'll meet you in the medical bay later, okay?" and she had disappeared.

He knew Yoda was going to speak, but he had no more desire to listen. "Something weighs on you, Skywalker." Of course, the small Jedi was right, but Anakin's expression did not change. "Believe I do, that master Kenobi will recover in time."

"It's more than that, Master." He let out a long breath. "I need to speak with Dooku as soon as he is fully awake."

"Wait, that can. Recover yourself, you must." The tiny master had started walking towards the medical bay to follow the two disappeared units. Anakin did not follow, deciding that before he went and saw Obi-Wan, he should be at least clean. When the small master was out of sight, he boarded one of the individual speeders that carried him to his and Padme's apartment.

It looked exactly the same as it had when he had left the last time. The calming Coruscant sunset settled in through the long windows as he walked inside. She wasn't home, not yet. He took a piece of flimsi from a drawer, scribbling her a note so she wouldn't be alarmed when she did arrive back. He didn't want to scare her, but he wasn't up to speaking either. Minutes later, blissfully warm water was running over him, washing away layers of dirt and blood that wasn't even his from his skin.

He simply stood in it for minutes, his eyes closed and forehead pressed to the wall, and before he realized it, the numbness he had been feeling most of the day vanished and instead, tears came to his eyes. And he cried, sobbing into the warm water of the shower, letting them wash away in the water that ran heavily over him. At some point, they must have removed the force suppressant from his master's chest, because where there had been static, he could now feel his force signature pulsing. It was strong, steady, and calm as it always had been, but riding underneath it was an undercurrent of agony. It was so strong, Anakin could almost feel te pain himself, and he was forced to put up a wall to it, trying to deal with everything else that had happened first.

It was possible, indeed very probable, that one of the men he trusted above others, was the Sith Lord. Had tried to turn him to the dark side, had tried to have Obi-Wan killed. Had betrayed Dooku. Had been playing his cards to elongate an unnecessary war. But he wasn't positive. There were pieces still missing, too many pieces missing for him to do anything rash. He needed to speak with Dooku. He needed to see Obi-Wan.

With those two thoughts in mind, he finished washing and redressed, ignoring the alluring call of the bed. His body watched to sleep, but his mind raced forward. He cut down the wall he had built between his force thoughts and Obi-Wan's, feeling again the surging pain that had hardly lessened. He pulled his new tunic over his head, tying the strings together when he heard the door to the apartment slide open.

He heard Padme shuffle around the front room, and her feet pause. He knew she had found his note on the table, because seconds later, she came rushing to him, a look of pure joy on her face as he moved to embrace her. She was what he needed right now, safety, security, unshakeable. He held tight to her, burying his face in her neck. After moments, she pulled back to look at him.

"Oh, Ani. Thank goodness you're safe." Anakin had noticed she was often like this after longer missions, not that he blamed her for being so. "What's happened?"

"I'm going now to the Medical Facility," She looked down at his body, not seeing any injuries. "Obi-Wan and Rex were imprisoned and tortured by Dooku for the last two weeks, Obi-Wan is terribly injured." Now that he could feel his master's agony, the robotic tone in which had been discussing his injuries was gone, and he could hear the anger and sadness in his own voice. Her eyes were drawn back in horror.

"Let me come with you." She offered, and he knew that she and Obi-Wan had been good friends for a long time. He was tempted, sorely tempted, to accept her offer.

"I can't. The Council can't know I'm here. They haven't released anything to the Senate yet, they don't know we've returned. IF you come, they'll know I've been with you." He spoke rapidly, a spike in Obi-Wan's signature telling him that now the man was awake. Their connection felt blistering, but it pushed him to leave the warm comfort of her arms and go to him.

"Why haven't they alerted the Senate, Anakin?"

"We've taken Count Dooku into custody. But it's far more complicated than I originally thought. Than any of us originally thought. It has to stay secret." She nodded, and pulled him into a short kiss before releasing him towards the door.

"Let me know what I can do." As always, he admired her beauty, but even more so, her strength, with a smile that he hadn't been able to muster in a long while. He left their apartment in haste, feelings surges and dips from Obi-Wan, as well as strong feelings of rage through the remnants of a shattering connection with Dooku.

He slid into a speeder seat, letting the Coruscant lights settle onto him as he peeled effortlessly though the sky lanes, pushing the speeder to its limits, pushing himself to his limits. His brain was convulsing in waves of agony, but with the aid of being home, he quelled it pushing it down under the onslaught of Obi-Wan's signature.

We willed his friend to wait, to hold on, to give him strength. He passed through the halls of the medical center, practically running past the droids and medical Jedi who spared him glances and looks. He was guided only on their bond, ignoring the door signs, ignoring the nurses offer of help as he went in. He stormed around corner, pushed around hallways. And finally, he found himself looking through a thick wall of glass at Obi-Wan Kenobi.

And, for the first time in what seemed like a very long time, Obi-Wan was looking back at him.


	12. Healing

He could tell form how he looked that they'd had him in a bacta tank. His hair was still slightly wet, but almost back to its auburn brown color, and everywhere that wasn't covered in bandages had a slight of water on his skin. His entire torso seemed to be wrapped in bacta soaked gauze, but the skin he could see, including on his face, was pale and drawn. He was still in pain, but as he saw Anakin, he managed a small smile before falling back on the bed. Anakin stepped through the entrance to the room, ignoring the droids request for authorization. He could see all of his master now, wearing only a pair of black undershorts that showed the equally injured state of his legs. The one that had been broken looked better, the bone had been healed, and was locked in place by a brace; but it was still black with bruising that encircled it. The other was as pale as his face, and covered in small cuts and lacerations, purple bruises and depressions. Obi-Wan blinked up at him, clearly under the influence of some strong form of painkiller so he could lay down on the destroyed skin of his back.

"Obi-Wan…" He had been waiting to see him, wanting to talk to him for so long, but now, seeing him in this state, he wasn't sure wat to say. He called a chair over, sitting in it next to him. With what seemed to take a great effort, Obi-Wan moved his head to look at him and raised one hand, patting it on Anakin's arm that he rested on the bed.

"You rescued us." He said simply, his voice thick with exhaustion and muted pain. The line that had been cut across his face was almost completely done, disappeared into a thin line that cut across his features. The bacta would heal it, it wouldn't be permanent, but looking at it still made Anakin's insides twist with anger. He realized that Obi-Wan's back was also an array of bandages, and several pieces of the thick white gauze, despite being soaked with bacta, were reddening with blood. He nodded at him, feeling the burning of tears pushing against his eyes, and was unsure whether he had the power to fight them. In his current state of exhaustion. "How is Rex?"

Leave it to Obi-Wan to be potentially dying, so injured he can't even lay on his back without pain killers, to be concerned about someone else. He signaled the droid over, "Medical reports on Clone Commander Rex."

A scan popped up, Rex had a mild concussion that had been treated, complications with Malnutrition, and the beginnings of an infection on a wound on his back. He would be cleared and out of the medical unit by the morning. "He's fine, master. We're all fine. I'm worried about you."

Obi-Wan shook his head, but Anakin could see he was fading back into a drug-induced sleep. He waited, expecting him to drift off at any moment, but suddenly, he shot back up in bed, jerking upwards, gasping in pain as he pulled loose one of bandages and tore at one of the weakened muscles of his back. Anakin held him up, panic setting in. "Dooku. Where's Dooku?" Obi-Wan's eyes were as wide as they could be with the effects of the medicine, the normally clear blue cloudy and dulled.

"In custody, Master. Please, calm down. You're going to hurt yourself." He pressed gently on Obi-Wan's shoulder, and after a few seconds of labored, panicked breathing, his master relented, collapsing back into the pillows asleep before he made it all the way down.

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Ashoka watched her master through the glass as he coaxed Obi-Wan back down to the pillows of his bed. The older Jedi had his former's apprentices arm in a vice grip, and he seemed almost panic-stricken. She cringed, it hurt so much to see him that way. She knew it was medicine, his mind was clouded, and he would recover. But it didn't ease the pain she felt watching the exchange between them, watching as he collapsed, still exhausted form his ordeal and being pulled under by the pain to stay awake.

Her master was hurting, she could feel it radiating off of him in his force signature; she felt obi-Wan's physical pain, but her master's emotional state was just as distressing. He needed sleep, he seemed like he needed comfort. She walked around the glass, his eyes were on Obi-Wan's face, watching for any indication of his waking, panicking, or jerking in pain. "How is he, master?" Anakin startled when she came up behind him. It was almost impossible to sneak up on Anakin, and as she turned around to expose the dark circles under his eyes, she saw clearly how exhausted he was.

"Better." His eyes went back to Obi-Wan, watching his face as it contorted painfully in his sleep. She could feel the small spikes in his force signature with every motion, and knew Anakin must feel them tenfold. She put a hand on his shoulder, trying to give him some form of comfort.

"I saw Rex, he was asking about Obi-Wan. He wanted to come and see him, but they wouldn't release him." Anakin nodded in reply, and she wondered if he realized what she did. Rex wasn't Obi-Wan's commander, but she had noticed, since she had first cut the chains holding the close to the wall and he had practically run to the Jedi, that he was incredibly protective over him. She didn't know what had happened on Kadavo, what had happened on Serreno, and realized that she would probably be happier never knowing the full story, but whatever it was, it was obvious the clone felt very much in Obi-Wan's debt. She looked down at him on the bed, he was wrapped tightly in bandages, his skin pale and drawn but healing. The white gauze were becoming more and more spotted with red, and she realized that some of the deeper wounds must still be bleeding. She unconsciously tightened her grip on Anakin's shoulder and he looked up at her.

"I'm sorry, master." Before Anakin could speak, another voice came from behind them.

"Sorry, we all are, for Master Kenobi's ordeal." The small tapping sound of Master Yoda's cane followed the sound of his voice. "Many things, no one should have to endure. Shown great strength, he has." He waved on arm, levitating a small chair so that he could be eyelevel with Anakin. "Strong with the force, Master Kenobi is, recover he will."

"We should have gotten there sooner." Anakin spoke so softly Ashoka could barely hear him. The words hurt her, almost physically.

"If you will, Padawan. Speak with Master Skywalker alone, I must." Yoda nodded at her, his large green eyes kind. She knew she was free to refuse, to demand to stay, but that would help no one, least of all her Master. She nodded, but looking down at Obi-Wan, she couldn't leave without doing anything. She reached the hand that had been on Anakin's shoulder and placed it over his, squeezing it gently, trying to allow some of her force energy to transfer to the injured Master. She turned and left, not missing Anakin's grateful glance as she went to her quarters to get some restful sleep for the first time since she had left the temple for Zygerria.

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Yoda had seen troubled Jedi. He had been alive for hundreds of years, had seen once proud Jedi lose their path, lose their faith. He had seen such in his own apprentice, Dooku, so many years before. This was different. Skywalker was physically exhausted form lack of sleep and the use of his energy, but his mind was troubled. By more than Kenobi's energy. His insides were rocking with turmoil, and he didn't know what to say to him to articulate what it could all mean.

"Sense great trouble in your mind, I do." Yoda was not one to get washed over with emotion, he had spent decades controlling his emotions, but seeing Skywalker look down at his former master, broken, bleeding, but still clinging to life through the force was enough to trouble the Jedi Master. Their bond was strong, and though they would indeed be separated one day, he did not wish, for either of their sake, that they day be so soon. And he too, cared for Kenobi; he saw in him the great potential and grace that all Jedi should possess and yet so few did. His dedication to diplomacy, his quick humor and exceptional wisdom had helped guide the council through some of its darkest times in the war. It hurt to see him so damaged, especially knowing it was his loyalty to the Jedi that had gotten him all of this horrific treatment. "Wish to speak of it, do you?"

"No, Master. There are some things I must figure out for myself first." Yoda knew the other council members did not have full trust in Skywalker. Windu especially. But they could not see the brilliance that Yoda could at this moment. The lack of inner peace, but the presence of strength that gave him the ability to coalesce and sit at this bedside, watching over a close friend rather than see to his own needs or settle for himself these conflicts.

"A time for strength, there is. Also a time for rest." Anakin looked up at him now, the dark lines under his eyes showing the pure adrenaline and unwillingness to leave his friends that he held inside of his mind. "Watch over Master Kenobi, I will. Sleep you must." Yoda could see the protest forming. He had wanted to speak with Anakin regarding what was happening in his mind, but after seeing the state he was in, knew that now was not the time. He trusted the man enough to come to him when he had wrestled with his inner demons and come to a decision. "Call you if anything changed, I will."

He did not leave it open for discussion, nor as a request that Anakin could refuse. He would stay with the injured Master, and true to his word, call Skywalker if his state changed. He saw the conflict there, and it took several minutes for him to rise. His eyes never left Obi-Wan until he stood to leave.

"Thank you, Master Yoda." And with little flourish, he was gone; and Yoda sat in silence with Obi-Wan, letting his own grief at the events disappear into the force he felt wrapped around him.


	13. Interrogation

Padme watched her husband sleep, he been lying completely still for over an hour. She was relieved, he had thrashed around, and even yelled at one point when he had first fallen asleep. She had pressed a hand to his chest, running her hands over him until he calmed down, and thankfully, eh had calmed down, though from the movements of his face, it was clear he was still dreaming.

He had told her more of what had happened when he had returned from the medical ward. She didn't want to think about it now, but it was the only thing that was coming to her mind. She had cried softly after he had gone to sleep, thinking about one of her oldest and truest friends and the cruelty he had endured at the hands of the Sith. Anakin had mentioned that Yoda was staying with him now, and she knew, from her actually extensive knowledge of Jedi experience, that this was not normal behavior. She was glad though, the little Master's presence had seemed to ease Anakin's mind.

She slid her hand down to his now, entwining their fingers, and closed her own eyes, trying to sleep. It was a long time in coming, her eyes were filled with images of slavery, of beatings, of misery and pain, of Anakin, who seemed so hurt by all of it. She touched a hand to her stomach, she had news to tell him, exciting wonderful news, but she knew that now wasn't the time. Tomorrow would be better, he would have calmed down and worked through the brunt of the horrors that he had been through. She would tell him then, and they could revel in their joy together, she could make him happier as he was set to endure his master's long recovery with pain and confusion over the next several days.  
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Anakin had woken up slowly, like he was being gently pulled from a dream. The spot on the bed beside him was cold and the sunlight brilliant. There was a note from Padme, she had to leave to go to the Senate for work, and as he rolled over to check the time, he realized she had already been gone for over four hours. He had slept more that night than he could ever remember sleeping in his lifetime, and while he no longer felt physically tired, a certain wariness clung to him as she showered and devoured most of what he could find in the fridge. He hadn't eaten, and hadn't realized how long it had been. The food on Zygerria, the night they had left the planet had been the last time.

Finally, redressed, his and Obi-Wan's lightsabers clipped to his belt, he had left to return to the medical bay. He couldn't stay long, he knew that Dooku would be well awake and aware of himself by now, and he had to speak with him, Bu t he would be damned if he didn't check on Obi-Wan, as well as Rex, first.

As it turned out, he could do both at once. In the chair he had been seated in the night before, was the Clone Commander, across from him on the other side of the bed was Ashoka. Obi-Wan was awake, and glanced up at Anakin as he came around, but he and Rex were mid conversation.

"General!" Rex stood and saluted him, and offered him the seat. He declined, and pulled himself over another chair. He sat down and looked up at Obi-Wan, who managed an actual smile at him. The line that had cut across his face was gone, he could see where they had changed his bandages again, only one of them tinged red instead of pure white, the bruise on his broken leg was still a sickening dark purple, but he seemed to at least feel much better.

"Sorry for last night, Anakin, He said trying to pull himself up to lean on his elbows, only making it halfway before simply leaning back into the pillows for support. "I'm not sure what was happening."

"Are you really apologizing, Obi-Wan?" Anakin wanted to laugh, for the first time in days, looking at the half-grin on his old masters face, he felt the freedom to. "Force, old man, I've dealt with worse." Ashoka rolled her eyes as Obi-Wan shook his head slightly. "Where is Yoda?"

"He left when we got here, Sir." Rex spoke up, "He said he thought General Kenobi would be in alright hands with us here."

"We spoke briefly before he left," Obi-Wan said, and his gaze turned to Anakin. Behind the pain and tiredness, Anakin saw the familiar look of worry from his master. He was struck again by how extraordinary of a Jedi he was. He also knew that now was not to the time to tell his best friend of his suspicions. There were things he needed to work out for himself, and though he valued his guidance, he didn't want to burden him with it while he was in a fragile state.

"I can't stay." Anakin said, and it was true. He was due in the holding cells in just a few minutes. He rose to leave. He unclipped Obi-Wan's lightsaber from his belt and set it on the table, the weight of it leaving him and "If you need anything, Obi-Wan, let me know."

"I'll be fine, Anakin." Anakin knew how stubborn he could be, so he looked over at Ashoka.

"I'll keep you posted, Master." Obi-Wan sighed at Ashoka's words, but Anakin knew he was simply kidding, and left for the prison, trying to leave his worries behind in that room. He would recover. All the IVs they had connected to him, all those bandages and medicine had to amount to something. Obi-Wan would be fine. He had to be.

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Dooku had never expected to return to the Jedi temple. He despised the place on principle, hated the overly serene feel of it, the formalities that hung heavy between all of the people milling about. He had never felt so uncomfortable, and in what he saw as a particularly cruel piece of fate, it had nothing to do with the prison he was in.

There were four Jedi guarding his cell, standing in a semicircle, two watching him, two watching the outer door. Not to mention the other, non-Jedi guards who mille around in a seemingly useless fashion. He knew his capture was being kept secret from the Senate, Skywalker had figured out his clues then, or at least part of it. He was on his way of figuring out the identity of the Sith.

It had been a long time since he had been this close to his Master. But the cuffs they had clamped around his arms and legs kept him from reaching out with the force. It had occurred to him, more than once, that this was probably the only reason he was still alive. His master could not sense him, had not learned of his betrayal yet. If his capture had been kept secret, Kenobi's return had been as well to all, he assumed, but the Jedi council. The thought of it left an unpleasant taste in his mouth, and he adjusted hi body, shifting his weight, and contemplating how much had changed in the last day or so.

The outer doors slid open, and he saw the man he had been expecting since Yoda had come by earlier that day. Skywalker walked through the guard detail, keeping his eyes on Dooku, ignoring one nod of congratulations on capturing him from Master Kit Fisto, who was keeping his eyes on Dooku. By the time he had gotten into Dooku's cell, through all of the security measures they had taken, Dooku didn't need the force to feel the cold fury that burned through all of the man's features. In response, he simply smiled.

"How's Kenobi, Skywalker? He looked a bit rough the last time I saw him." He had nothing to lose here in this prison. But instead of an angry, snapping retort that he expected from Skywalker, the man sat opposite him on the other bench in his cell and simply stared at him, his expression guarded. "I do apologize for that, he was a model prisoner."

"I'm not here to talk about Obi-Wan." The Jedi cut him off, narrowing his eyes. "I have no interest in your cruelty Dooku, I have interest in what you know."

"I don't know whether or not I believe you, Skywalker." He was far too easy to manipulate. He didn't hold the same resolve his master did. Was he strong in the force? Yes. But unstable. "The council will find out, the clone will tell them what happened in my prison. But that doesn't mean you'll be privy to that information, Skywalker. I know you need to know what happened."

"You're wrong, Dooku." But he didn't say about which part he was wrong. Dooku smiled again at him. He had all the time in the world to torment Skywalker. Kenobi was an easy target for him to do it, too.

"What then, could you possibly want?" Skywalker might believe himself to be strong; but his resolve was fading at Dooku's sarcasm.

"Information, Dooku. Tell me about the Sith."

"I'm a Sith." The disgusting metal hand of Skywalker's curled its fingers together "One of two, though. I assume you want to know about the other one."

Skywalker said nothing. "Have you ever stopped to consider that if I tell you anything, Skywalker, that it gives him free license to kill me? And I doubt the ability of your Jedi guard to keep him from me in this place." His eyes flickered to the two masters and two knights who were standing outside the gate. Skywalker's gaze followed him, taking in Fisto's narrowed eyes as he watched through the guard.

"I have very little interest in your protection, Dooku." Dooku knew he meant it, but he up-ticked his eyebrows regardless.

"Then why didn't you kill me when you had the chance? You've never been one to follow the rules of the Jedi Order, Skywalker."

"You know nothing about me, Dooku; don't pretend that you do." He was snarling now, his voice low, and Dooku, through the bond his master had set up between them, could feel his pulsing anger.

"On the contrary, my Master had set up quite a nice connection between us. I know far more than you think." The boy again said nothing, trying to contain his rage. "But I will tell you this: I told your master in not so many words who the Sith was years ago. He was too hard-headed to believe me, but I see that you know the truth. I won't tell you who it is, you'll have to trust yourself. Ask Kenobi if you have any questions, should he be in any state to talk."

Instantly, Dooku felt Skywalker's gloved hand on the front of his tunic, gripping the fabric tightly, pulling him forward. The other Jedi behind him started towards the door, but stopped realizing that Anakin had stopped as well. He looked into his eyes, smiling as he always did, watching again the failure of the Jedi Order he had seen so many years ago.

"Don't say his name. Not where I can hear you." Anakin released his shirt, and he reached his shackled hands up to smooth out the wrinkle and watched at the Jedi stormed out of his cell, ignoring the questions posed at him by others.

Vaguely, Dooku wondered what would happen now. He wondered is Skywalker would listen to his own suspicions and attack the Sith. And vaguely, unimportantly, with as much emotion he might show when swatting a fly, he wondered if the next visitor to his cell might kill him.


	14. Confession

He stepped in to the dark chamber of the meditation zone. Master Yoda and Master Windu sat on their compatible stools, meditating until he arrived. Yoda's eyes were kind, Windu's were, as they always were, watchful and guarded. "Masters, I need to speak with you immediately."

"Has something happened with Master Kenobi?" Windu turned to him, moving to rise from his seat until Anakin took one across from him. There was a long moment, and Anakin could feel the Jedi Master's impatience with him. But to articulate his thoughts was difficult. He had to be careful, too much weighed on their belief in him.

"It's about the Sith."

"Speak of Dooku, do you?" Yoda interrupted him, although it wasn't so much of an interruption as it was a necessary question.

"No, Dooku's master." He slid his hands over his face, through his hair; trying to steel his resolve. Yoda looked at him, concerned, Windu with some form of contempt. "I've been to see Dooku in the holding cell, after I saw Obi-Wan. He…he's been betrayed by his master."

"Did he tell you this?" Now they were listening, fully, and with rapt attention. He felt the hum of Dooku's muted energy in his brain, and he used it to carry his words forward.

"No. The Sith Lord set up a connection between us, I know what he's feeling." He paused again, and couldn't speak until an image of Obi-Wan, of how he found him in the prison, chained and bloodied, flitted into his mind. "When we fought, he spoke of the Sith. According to Dooku, he wanted me to kill him, to give in to the dark side of the force. His intention was for Dooku to kill Obi-Wan, and in return for me to kill Dooku."

"Why would he want the death of his own apprentice? Especially considering that Dooku is head of the Separatists who are trying to destroy the Jedi Order." Windu was skeptical, there was little Anakin could do to convince him either. Years of mistrust between the pair didn't help the situation, but Anakin frankly didn't have time for that right now.

"He wanted me to be his new apprentice, I'm younger, more powerful than Dooku. But I refused to kill him." He felt jittery, he could feel small spikes in Obi-Wan's force signature. His master must be undergoing some form of treatment, the spikes were of pain, slowly dissipating then spiking again. But he could not focus on that at the moment. "I believe, as well, that the Sith Lord we are looking for is here. In the Senate."

He watched as Windu's hand reflexively went to his lightsaber and Yoda let out a slow breath. "Is it a senator? An aide?"

Anakin shook his head, and he could feel a desperate throbbing against the back of his skull, a protest of sorts. He wondered if it was the Sith, or Dooku. "I believe it's the Chancellor, Master."

"That is a heavy accusation, Skywalker!" Windu didn't believe him. He hadn't expected him to. "It unfounded…"

But Yoda held up his hand, and the human Master stilled both his voice and his motions. "What proof, have you, young Skywalker, of your claims?"

"Count Dooku told me, Master. In not so many words. He told Obi-Wan as well, a while ago." He let out a breath, and decided that divulging all of what he knew was best. "I saw him through Dooku, felt his force presence. I knew he was familiar, but until I spoke with Dooku earlier, I couldn't be sure…"

"And now, sure you are?"

"Yes, Master. But there is more to it than that, some plot I don't understand. I don't know what he's planning, but I'm afraid of what he could do."

"Respect your belief, I do, Skywalker. But move carefully, we must." Yoda seemed to be contemplating him carefully, stroking his chin.

"He is unaware that I know, Master. Let me go and speak with him, make sure of what I know."

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Skywalker." Windu stood next to him, "If this Sith wants you as an apprentice, it is best to keep you separated. I can take a small team of Jedi, ask the Chancellor to submit to interrogation; if he agrees, we will have answers to this question. If not, we should be able to secure him and see an end to this." He still didn't believe him, Anakin could see it, and his commentary showed he didn't trust him.

But he quelled his anger, trying hard to keep his voice level. "If he is the Sith Lord, Master Windu, he will be dangerous. It would be best if I came with you."

"Right, Master Windu is. Instead, go to Dooku, you must, Skywalker. If fail to secure the Chancellor we do, kill Dooku he will." Yoda did not leave room for Anakin to argue, rising from his small stool to walk in front of Windu out of the room. "If preserve the Jedi order, move carefully, we must."

Anakin understood his words. If he was wrong, then what the council was about to do could be considered treason. If he was wrong, he would have betrayed a man that had seemed to show him nothing but kindness through all of his life. If he was wrong, an innocent man would be burdened with a horrific lie that could destroy his career and his life.

If he was right, then he had been betrayed more fully than he could have ever thought possible. If he was right, then it was likely that some of the Jedi who were leaving to seize the Chancellor would not return from their mission. If he was right, he would have finally proven himself to be the Jedi he always thought he could be. And it was more than likely that one of his oldest supporters would die.  
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Obi-Wan felt the change in the force. He was under the lull of more pain medication, after his brief respite that morning, he had a sudden attack, his body nearly going into shock as the injuries along his back and over his ribcage tried desperately to fix themselves. He hadn't been able to breathe, jerking forward on his medical bed, feeling the blood from forced open wounds cut into his bandages in the few seconds before the medics came and secured him. They had given him injections, rewrapped his bandages, and now, he was lying, sedated to a partially filled room.

In what he had first thought was some sort of feverish dream, he had seen Satine, dressed in full Mandalorian Senate attire, come into his room. She had looked so upset, almost crying that he had felt himself physically reaching out to her when she had put soft hands over his. He had drifted off to sleep then, and when he had woken back up, she was gone. Ahsoka was in her place next to his bed, flicking through a datapad, and she wondered if she had promised Anakin she would stay with him.

Now, as the jerk in the force woke him again, he saw Ahsoka, still sitting, levitating a small round object through his fingers. Rex was sitting on the small couch, head leaned back on the wall as he slept. And on his bedside, next to his lightsaber was a notecard and a small bag of fruits. He couldn't quite make out the words in his hazy vision, but he could tell it was from Padme by the inclusion of a small Senate Seal in the corner and the general thoughtfulness. He tried to pull himself up, reaching out with the force as best he could. The disturbance wasn't coming from Anakin, or from Dooku as he may have originally thought. It was something else, something strange and yet…close.

Ashoka noticed him moving and put a hand on his arm, helping to set him back up on the pillows. "What's happened?" He voice was thick, and loose, sat up, groping for his lightsaber, and pulling it loosely into his hand.

"Nothing, Master Kenobi. You're fine. Here, let me help you." And she did, guiding him back to where he could lean comfortably backwards, keeping the pressure off his wounds.

"Something's wrong." But even to himself, he sounded faint. "Is someone here?"

"No, but you've had some visitors." She said, stepping back to sit in her chair again. "Senator Amidala came by and left you the fruit. Me and Rex have been here, Duchess Satine and Master Gallia came by earlier, too. You were asleep, I didn't want to wake you." He nodded softly at her sheepish look of guilt for not waking him up.

But it didn't fend off the feeling that something else was coming. He looked into the hallway, and saw another visitor coming to visit him. He tried to sit up further, somewhat startled by his new visitor.

"Master Kenobi," The Chancellor's smooth voice came to his ears as he rounded the glass blockade leading into Obi-Wan's room. "I'm so glad to see you've made your safe return."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Something was wrong. Windu could feel it, something that was confirmed as Master Fisto finished his conversation with a senatorial aide. "He says the Chancellor left for the Jedi temple almost half an hour ago, Mace." Windu stood silent for a moment, a cold feeling of dread washing over him. He didn't know the Chancellor's intention, but remembering Yoda's words, if Palpatine had discovered their knowledge, Dooku would be his next logical target.

"WE must hurry back." Master Rancises led the way, climbing into their nearby transport and seizing the controls to move them forward.

"Where do you think he would be going?" Adi Gallia sat opposite him in the back of the transport.

"The logical thought would be to Count Dooku, if he has discovered Dooku's betrayal, he will kill him before he has the chance to reveal anything else."

"Anything else?" She seemed puzzled, as did Master Fisto, who crossed his arms across his chest, and the others who sat around them.

"Skywalker is of the belief that there may be something larger at play here. Securing Dooku must be a top priority, he is our only reliable line of information at this point."

"Then we will defend the traitor." It was a common sentiment among Jedi that Count Dooku was a traitor, betraying both the Order and his own values in favor of power and greed for both the Separatists and the Sith. It was not necessarily a feeling that Mace shared, but one he did not bother to question as they weaved as gracefully as possible through lanes of traffic.

He hoped, in his head as well as his heart, that Skywalker would be able to resist the lure of the dark side the Sith was placing for him. Even if it wasn't the Chancellor, and he had his doubts that it was, he was under the belief that his fellow Jedi would not be able to resist. There was too much at stake for him to fail. He was suddenly, virulently grateful that Yoda was with him, perhaps the small green master would be able to help Skywalker control his feelings in the face of evil.

With that thought, he glanced up at the pilot's chair and willed the transport to go faster.


	15. Desperation

"You would do well to listen to me, Skywalker." Dooku said, looking between his old master, low to the ground, and the Jedi Knight who was pacing the prison floor in front of him, not looking him in the eye. He could feel his master's fury in the force. He had gotten word, somehow, someway, of Kenobi's return. Dooku did not fear death, and through the force, his connection to Sidious strong enough to overpower the force restraints holding him to the wall, he realized his master was not coming for him. "He has another target that he considers far more important than myself."

Skywalker, predictably, glared at him. The suppressants kept Dooku from their connection, but it didn't take a genius to feel the anger radiating off of the young General. He looked like one might personify a walking bomb, his edges seemed frayed, his eyes stretched wide. He clearly did not appreciate being put on guard duty when there were more important things to do. Dooku could easily mock him for it, it had most likely been one of Mace Windu's decisions, even on Geonosis, his general distaste for Anakin Skywalker had been evident and not something Dooku had ever considered to be of grave importance until now.

"Aware of the Sith Lord's plot, are you?" Yoda spoke at him, and he met the cold gaze of his old master easily, with equal coolness.

"I am a Sith Lord, Master Yoda." He lifted his eyebrows, daring the Jedi to challenge him. "But as for Lord Sidious, you may have noticed it is not the easiest thing to have access to me right now. But our connection is far stronger than the connection between ordinary Jedi. He is not coming here. Not yet."

"Where's he going then?" Skywalker spoke to him now, his metal hand clamped on the end of his lightsaber hilt. "If he's not coming to kill you for betraying him, where is he going?"

"I do wish I could tell you, but then I'd lose my guards." He said, leaning back against the wall. He had to smile, Skywalker looked as though he would like nothing more than to run him through with his lightsaber. "I will say that apparently there is someone, maybe even two people he wants dead more than myself. I'm shocked."

"What are you talking about?" Skywalker was now demanding answers, so close to Dooku that the Sith was forced to stand and face him. He glanced down at Yoda, who looked at Anakin quizzically.

"He wants you as his new apprentice." Dooku said slowly, and Skywalker looked at him, clearly not understanding. He thought for a moment on what his next words should be, relishing in the anguish he was going to see on the Jedi's face. "But you already have a master, don't you?"

Skywalker was gone in an instant, a brief look of horrific desperation crossing his face before he was gone, but the one of Yoda's face almost was almost as priceless. Finally, after 80 years of living with Yoda's disapproval of his everything, of his words, his abilities, his choices, he had stunned the little green Jedi. The look on his face was the one that Jedi trained their entire lives to avoid.

It was face twisted, contorted, and marked by fear.

* * *

He had not expected the girl, or the clone, or for Kenobi to be awake. But, as everything else, he took it in stride. He was very much set on his mission, he had been waiting far too long for this. The clone stood and saluted him, it wasn't Commander Cody, as he had thought it might be, it was Captain Rex, from Anakin's battalion. He supposed he would have to kill him as well, this was of far too much importance, but what a waste. He would have been valuable in the next stage of his plan.

"I heard that you had returned and wanted to offer my thanks for the great deal of loyalty you showed to the Republic these last few weeks." How many times had he said things like this. Lies. Treachery. Heavy words laced with too-sweet assumptions. The Padawan bowed to him, and he didn't acknowledge her. She would have died in his order, he needed her dead, but Kenobi first. Amidala second. Then Skywalker would be his.

He looked over to the Jedi master, smiling at him in what to others would have looked like a simple politicians smile. Instead, it might have been the first genuine smile he'd had in a long time. Kenobi's injuries were horrific, to an ordinary human, they would have been fatal. Blood was blotting into his bandages, and though his eyes were questioning the Chancellor's presence, they were glazed with both muted pain and sedative medication. He moved his hands back to his hips, seeming to simply be standing still, but rather reaching his hand to his lightsaber hilt.

Kenobi did not know the pain he had caused him. The years of work he had put into Skywalker, imploring him to be moved by his emotions, had almost been worth nothing because of Kenobi's insistent training modules of emotional control and conscience. He had truly made a Jedi of Anakin Skywalker, and because of that, Palpatine hated him. Pure, unadulterated loathing that manifested itself in terminable rage whenever he was forced into the Jedi's presence. "I'm afraid it won't come to much though."

He vaguely wondered if Kenobi could feel him through the force, clearly the girl didn't. He heard ask what he meant, she was distracted, too caught up in the image he had constructed. He was too consumed with rage, with hatred, to answer her. His face twisted, and his lightsaber hilt was in his hand, and in and an instant the brilliant red blade was in his hands. "The Republic is mine." He heard her calling her lightsabers, but it take to long for her to stop him. And he would crush her easily, as soon as Kenobi was dead. He lifted up, moved the blade to pierce the Jedi's chest, who was trying but couldn't make his damaged body cooperate to block the attack. He slammed the blade downward, and as it descended, less than an inch of distance between the end and its target, he started to laugh.

* * *

Anakin was sprinting, his body, though tired from the last few weeks, did not fail him. He ran in a fury past Windu and the other masters who had landed on the prison platform, ignoring their call, but feeling Windu fun to follow him. His feet moved faster than his brain was thinking. He could process no words in his mind, no true thoughts. Only horror. Only rage at his own stupidity, caught up in a thousand images of Obi-Wan and Padme, caught up in a torrent of furious rage.

He burst through the medical unit, fully pushing over a healer and not having the ability to stop and help the man form the floor. He kept moving, he could feel his master's force signature pulsing against his mind, still crippled by pain. He could feel the horrible burning buzzing that he now knew must be the Sith, must be the Chancellor. He pushed harder, he had to make it to them. The Chancellor was already here. He was going to be to late. He felt the surge, the glint of satisfaction from the Sith, and a mangled howl tore from his chest. He was almost there, he couldn't be too late now.

He rounded the last corner, the glass open view to Obi-Wan's room where everything had fallen into place. The Sith was mid swing, moving his lightsaber in a downward arc that would kill the injured Jedi, his best friend, his father. It seemed to move in slow motion, as ice wrapped cold around his heart. He heard a sharp laugh, watched the red blade move, saw Obi-Wan's eyes come to him in a moment, and he waited, his body aching to feel the sharp severance of his master through the force, even as he came into the room.

But it didn't come. As he reached them, the only thing he could feel was startled. And the surprise was not his own.

The Sith slammed into the wall behind him, Rex having launched himself on him in a full-body tackle, his lightsaber clattering down the white walls of the medical unit, a scream of pure fury erupting from him. In the moment that followed, as Anakin drew his own lightsaber to fight him, an extraordinary burst of force lightning, erupting from the Sith's fingers, exploded. It caught Rex in the chest, sending him flying back into the air where he hit the wall and slumped to the ground.

Anakin staggered, realizing all that had happened in the last moment. His master was alive, lying on the bed, his eyes wide in shock. Rex, Rex could be dead. He had leapt, in a motion quicker even than Anakin had been able to notice, and slammed into the Sith, knocking him from Obi-Wan's bedside. Ashoka was stunned, her lightsabers now in her hands. And Palpatine.

Palpatine was watching him, having recalled his lightsaber hilt to his hand. He spared a cruel looking smile at the clone who had stopped his plan. "Anakin." His voice sounded too much like the man who had always been so kind. "I'm so happy you could join us."


	16. Information

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted the wrong chapter last time! This is the real chapter sixteen ;)

Anakin swiveled his blade around, pointing it at Palpatine's chest, trying to ease his own feelings of hurt. This man had betrayed him, he had just witnessed what his intentions were, trying to murder Obi-Wan, trying to sever Anakin's connections to the Order. Rex was stirring, standing slowly, leaning heavily on the wall. "Ahsoka, leave." He said to his apprentice, his eyes never leaving Palpatine."

"No, Master!" She was protesting, as he knew she would. "You'll need my help to fight him…"

"Now, Ahsoka, got and get the others." Palpatine just smiled at him, looking entirely unconcerned with the run of events. He could feel another protest getting ready to come from her. "Now, Ahsoka!" And so she left, to his surprise, Palpatine made no move to stop her, continuing his hold on his lightsaber hilt, watching Anakin with a thoughtfully careful expression. Obi-Wan was shifting on the bed, he had his lightsaber gripped in his hands, his recent brush with death having pulled him from the depths of drug-induced confusion. He moved to stand slowly, but he unsteady, his only recently healed leg having to be favorably balanced to support his weight. He staggered, and Anakin wondered if he would fall, but he managed to stay upright.

Rex, who had himself managed to stand, immediately went to him, not touching him, but near enough that if he fell, the clone could catch him.

"I assume you have realized the truth of this matter," Finally Palpatine spoke, not bothering to acknowledge Obi-Wan or the clone soldier behind him. "I'm sorry it had to come to fruition like this, Anakin, I didn't mean for you to to get hurt."

"You're a liar," He felt the anger surge within him, "You are the cause of all of this."

"I'm afraid that Master's Kenobi's torture was arranged entirely by Count Dooku." Palpatine smiled, trying to sate Anakin's fury. The room pulsed with the Dark side, it was creating a fog around his vision, around his judgement.

"The war. You caused all of this." His mind raced with all the Jedi who had been slaughtered, all the innocent civilians, all the sacrifices people had made. All the resources, peoples, ideals that had been mangled in this war. He thought of the battle of Geonosis, where Jedi he had grown up with at the temple had fallen in what would be the first of thousands of battles in a war being orchestrated by the man they had sworn to protect. He thought of every trap he and Obi-Wan had walked into, realizing now that there goal had been to kill his master. To isolate Anakin from one of the only people who cared about him. "Give me a reason I shouldn't kill you."

"I have several," He paused and gave another gentle smile, the thought of Anakin trying to kill him not seeming to bother him in the least. It was unnerving, to watch a man so composed reamain that way, even in the face of death. "Information for one. You told Windu and Yoda your suspicions about my having a plot to destroy the Jedi. You're right, of course."

"Tell me," Anakin was doing his best to seem intimidating, not usually something he had problems with, but all kinds of memories, himself as a small child, new to the temple, not yet knowing how to talk to Obi-Wan, being able to find comfort in the Chancellor. His heart was aching in pain, how could he do this? But, he looked at Obi-Wan, determined to help him, now leaning with one hand on the bed, how could he not?

"First, something else." An image suddenly flitted through Anakin's mind. It was Padme, her face contorted in pain, she was crying and screaming and alone. She was calling for him, but he couldn't get to her. He heard children, babies. Watched as life drained form her, his name on her lips. "Though you are yet to know, Senator Amidala is pregnant."

Cold dread hit Anakin, the vision repeating itself. He tried to shake it form his mind, tried to focus on something else, but his body wouldn't do it. He realized vaguely, that Palpatine was putting it there, showing him the future. "I can save her. Together, we can save her from this fate, she doesn't have to die, Anakin. She can live, you can raise your children together." Anakin froze, letting out a sharp breath as he turned his gaze form Palpatine to Obi-Wan.

His oldest friend was looking back at him, his face not of shock as Anakin had expected. Instead, it was full of gentle understanding, of pain that he could not share that burden of knowledge with is apprentice; and even as Anakin waited, the full knowledge of his breaking of the Jedi Code in the air between them, he felt comfort from Obi-Wan in their force bond. His master had already forgiven him, understood the decisions he had made; but now he was still faced with a choice. The vision would not leave, even as his own force signature drew peace form Obi-Wan's. his own conspicuously absent, the vision would not clear. His wife, his love, contorted in the agony of death. He had to save her, this could not happen.

"What about the Jedi?" He forced himself to ask another question of him, and the vision relented somewhat, moving to the back rather than the forefront of his mind.

"The Jedi have become lost in their hunger for power, Anakin. Think of how this war has changed the Order, how this war has changed all of their ideals. They are dangerous, too powerful to remain," He spoke it like it was rehearsed, his hand tightening in anger on the hilt of his lightsaber.

"The Jedi have been forced to fight in a war of your creation," Anakin sputtered, it was hard to argue with Palpatine, everything he said was level, and had an air of confidence. "Any loss of ideals has to do with you. The Jedi do not seek power, unlike you."

"The Jedi are arrogant. It will be their downfall. Their naivety is extraordinary for a group so dedicated to being connected through the force." He said, continuing. Anakin didn't understand. The dark side shrouded things, not being able to see the Chancellor, who had managed to hide his identity for however long couldn't have been much of a surprise.

"What do you mean?" Anakin demanded, now taking a step closer to him, realizing that beyond what could happen to Padme, what this man might be capable of. This vision strengthened, he realized that it might instead be from the Sith. How then, could it be the actual future?

"Perhaps," Palpatine said, his voice cool and thoughtful as always, his smile still disconcertingly kind. "A demonstration would be more effective."

* * *

Rex stood next to Obi-Wan, watching as another group of Master's approached, led by Ahsoka, through the medical unit. He watched the Chancellor as Anakin did, waiting on him to raise his saber, to try and ignite force lightning and attack them. He watched Obi-Wan, who had observed this entire scene in silence, leaning in pain on the bed, knowing that this battle was Anakin's and not his own to sort through, but ready to die to defend his Order.

To his surprise, the Chancellor did nothing, and even as he saw Master Windu and Master Fisto come into sight; he did not raise his arms. "Captain Rex," The clone soldier looked up, his mind burning with hatred at the man he had stopped from committing murder only moments before. Another pause of silence, the other Jedi now close enough to watch, but Rex had split his attention between the Chancellor, observing him levelly; Obi-Wan who was trying his best to stay upright as his leg started to spasm, and his General, who was staring at him, waiting on the Chancellor's move.

"Execute Order 66." Something clicked, hovering in the space of his brain. He felt his purpose strong in his brain, that main thought ticking into his body and through his actions. His eyes locked on the injured Jedi, who was staring at him incredulously as his face contorted with purpose.

With a swift motion, his wrapped his arms around the Jedi, whose lightsaber clattered to the floor as he held his arms to his sides, his other hand wrapping around the Jedi Master's throat. "Don't kill him." The Chancellor was now next to him, his hand on his shoulder, "Not yet. Let's go."

The Jedi in the hall had stilled, and the three of them traveled, Rex feeling the Jedi's blood soak into his medical tunic through the bandages that had forcibly ripped at the man's skin when he had taken hold of him. He could feel that this was his true purpose, an unanswered call that he, that all of his brothers, had been born to take on. The Chancellor, his ruler, led them out of the room, Anakin watching them, stricken, and into the hallway.

"Try and stop me, Jedi, and both of them die." The faces of the other Jedi, the traitors, were frozen in shock and fear, their eyes wide, lightsabers drawn. They moved slowly, staying close together. They would not stop them, and when they escaped, this Jedi would die.

"Rex," He heard his name, a small call in his purpose driven state of mind. "Are you alright?" It was coming from the Jedi in his custody. Something in his brain was whirring. Through this new phase of his life, there was something trying desperately to surface. Memories, thoughts, feelings. This Jedi, his blood smearing the clones robes, too weak to fight against the strength of his captor. Why was there a connection? Why was this Jedi so important?

He looked into his face, seeing the grief stricken eyes, behind them a grim determination.

And his steps faltered.


	17. Revenge

Mace Windu was wrong. He could see that now. Not only was the feeling uncommon, uncomfortable, unsettling: now, it was abundantly clear that cost that his mistake would have. Here they were, a council of Jedi Master's, watching as a man who had been willing to die for them, had sustained injuries far greater than any of them had ever faces, was being carried to his death as a pawn in the final game of the Sith. By a clone. He saw Skywalker, and Mace Windu realized that he had been wrong about the Sith. He had been wrong about the Clones. But he had been the most wrong about the man in front of him, who had his lightsaber raised, tears streaming down both sides of his face, watching his best friend be moved away, watching his betrayer who was taunting them in such as careless tone; he was a man in pain, and still, he was fighting for the Jedi.

But now was not the time for regret. It was also not the time for rescue. Move any closer and the Chancellor would kill Obi-Wan and Rex, who as Mace watched, was well out of the realm of his right mind. Btu they could not let him escape. The Sith couldn't leave, not when he had the power to destroy everything, including the Order.

Mace Windu watched as Obi-Wan spoke to Rex in a soft voice that only the clone could hear. He couldn't make out what the Jedi was saying, they were not pleading words, he was not begging for his life, even as Mace saw the sharp glint of Palpatine's lightsaber pressed into Rex's back, if activated, it would kill them both. No one was moving save for the three of them and Anakin. Obi-Wan continued speaking, his force signature a low hum. Mace could feel it, pulsing around him like it had on so many missions and in so many council meetings. But finally, after his words seem to get him nowhere, after the Clone paused, but still held him fast, did he speak where they could hear him.

"You can't let him leave, Anakin." Obi-Wan paid them no mind, no interest. It was as if they were unimportant in this game that the Sith was playing.

"I can't do it, Master." Skywalker was jerking, his steps as faltered as the clones who had come to a full stop, a brazen look in his eyes, fighting some internal conflict that Mace had the feeling the Sith would win.

"You must." Cold dread gripped at Mace's heart, not at Obi-Wan's words, but at the cruel smile on Palpatine's face, his eyes glittering as he twisted the handle further into Rex's back. "My life is not worth that of the entire order, Anakin. You are the only one who can defeat him."

"I can't let him kill you." Anakin choked out, and Mace was again hit with how torn this man was. How much Obi-Wan must mean to him as the council has never given him the support that had been called for. He realized now the great aftereffects of his mistrust. Consequences that could not be measured. He had the urge to fall to his knees, to protest in the force, to feel the horrific effects of his actions, to know all that his isolation had caused. "I don't know if I can kill him."

"It's not the Jedi way." Palpatine spoke before Obi-Wan had the chance, his tone mocking. "I don't have time for this chat, the three of us have places to be. Come, Captain, bring Kenobi." He started to step back, but Rex didn't follow.

In the clones eyes was nothing, his expression completely blank; but slowly, so slowly it barely seemed as if he were moving, he started to shake his head no.

* * *

Palpatine was tired of this. He had been tired of the Jedi for years. They surrounded him now, the fools, thinking that the intimidation of their pathetic Order would be enough to stop him. And now, as he watched, his clone, his soldiers that he had created in the perfect scheme, started to deny him. For reasons he couldn't fathom, the clone wasn't even in Kenobi's battalion. He resisted the urge to kill him, but it would be much smoother to leave with the Clone in tow.

"Captain, I don't enjoy being kept waiting." He snarled, his lips curling over his teeth, his fingers twitching over the button that would end his frustrations.

"No, you never did, did you?" His rage boiled over at the new voice that came from behind him. He turned, seething with rage,

"I will deal with your failures, later…" But he never finished the sentence. Instead he felt his body being lifted, manipulated, clenching around itself as his muscles tightened under the onslaught of electricity being into his body. He closed his eyes, feeling power surge around him, watching Kenobi's torn face fade from view.

* * *

Dooku could feel power pulsing though his fingers. How long he had waited for this moment. To feel and use every drop of resentful anger against his master, to show him the error of his ways. This was a man who had tried to take everything from him, had tried to have him killed by Skywalker, the oaf of a Jedi was staring at him stupidly. His body pulsed with the power no Jedi could know, but even now, he could feel his master's resistance.

When it shattered, exploding through their force connection, almost knocking Dooku back physically with the brunt weight of it, he only smiled, choosing to ignore what his fate would most likely be. The lightening came back at him in a surge, he redirected it, scorching hole through the white ceilings where he, not all that long ago, had come for treatment himself. He could feel Sidious' fury rolling from him as he descended to the ground, landing gracefully on his feet. "Kill Kenobi," He spat to the clone. "I no longer have any need for him."

Dooku didn't watch to see if the Clone followed orders. He no longer cared about Kenobi, only about Sidious's face, so close to his. The clone would kill him of course, it was in their programming he had designed himself. He had been a pawn in this game for so long, done his part so well, nothing could fail him.

In a motion quicker than the Jedi could register, he called for Master Rancises' lightsaber, the curved hilt not weighted perfectly as his had been, the blue blade feeling very nostalgic. "You cannot destroy me, Tyrannus. I am not alone in this fight."

Dooku looked past him at Skywalker, who was standing, blade aloft. In his brief escape from prison and travel down this hall, he had missed most of the details of what was happening. Yoda was supposedly coming to aid Kenobi, but he was not hear. The guards had been stupid enough to allow him to escape, using the power he could feel through the bond with his master. He had manipulated it, manipulated them as he had been doing with others his whole life. He found it hard to believe that Skywalker was supporting the Chancellor. Especially considering how hell bent he was on murdering Kenobi and Amidala. But now was not the time for questions, only for fighting.

He leapt forward, feeling the force surge around him, his arms moving swiftly, catching his master's blade where his head had been only moments before. He surged with power, he could feel his own strength, his own rage almost blinding him, watching the red blade with his blue one. What a fight this could have been, if he had never left the Order. It made no difference, he would destroy the Sith now, he was no longer a Jedi, this blade was not his to wield, and yet, this had never felt more right. He had left after sensing the corruption of the Republic, formed his own government, he would be powerful, he would be strong, he would win.

And then, in a twist ending he couldn't have seen coming, he watched the arc of his blue blade as it flipped in an arc over his head. He laughed, feeling the red blade as it stabbed through his abdomen, feel the burn that he had felt so many years ago when Qui-Gon had died.

He fell to his knees, letting his breath come ragged, ignoring Sidious's cold laughter. But death wasn't coming, not yet, and his eyes fell on the man who could have been his apprentice so long ago. Kenobi, like himself, was on the ground, the bandages that had covered him blurring red as Dooku's vision started to fade. Skywalker was huddled over him, and even as his ears were ringing, his own ragged breaths the only sound, he heard him screaming, shaking the man's shoulders.

He put a hand to his stomach, thinking of all that Sidious' victory here would mean. His eyes found the clone, staggering in his own footsteps, covered in blood that was not his own where he had been holding Kenobi, his head in his hands as he fought against the order that he had put in place so long ago. How ignorant they all were. How wrong. He started to fall, waiting for release that seemed determined not to find him, feeling the force wrap protectively around him, trying even now to preserve his life.

The floor was cold, the floor was comfortable. He saw Sidious' boot in front of his face, the broken faces of the Jedi, of Windu, of Fisto, of Rancises behind him, and he smiled. If only they could save them, he would tell them everything; he had nothing more to lose. He was no Jedi. And now, he was no Sith. And soon, quite soon as he felt the edges of his body start to go cold, he would be no more.

They would die, all of them. Except Skywalker, who, supporting Kenobi's upper body, had a look of pure murderous rage on his face. He hadn't felt Kenobi die, maybe he was like him, mustering out the last breaths of life because the clone he had saved from weeks of horrific torture hadn't done his job well enough. Maybe he was dead, and Dooku couldn't feel through the force as well as he thought.

He decided then that it didn't matter. He no longer cared. About Kenobi, about Sidious, about Skywalker, who, as he closed his eyes, leapt over him, blade in full attack, finally living out the fury he had been forced to hold in for so long.

And Dooku smiled, as the Darkside surged around him.


	18. Severance

Rex watched the scene in front of him unfold like it was some kind of simulation from his training days. He had no idea what was going on, his brain felt muddled, breaking through a haze of confusion that he wasn't sure the roots of. He watched as General Skywalker moved leapt over the body of Count Dooku, his blue blade drawn, his tear-stained, fury-ridden face startling to Rex. Why would he be mad at the Chancellor? The Chancellor was a great man.

_No, he isn't._

Another voice played in Rex's mind. His own voice. As he watched, another Jedi joined the fray. He felt like he knew the Jedi, his purple lightsaber drawn as the Chancellor began to fight both of them at once. Rex looked down at himself, and realized that his front was almost entirely covered in blood. He looked further at his feet, and saw the body of the injured Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi, lying still on the floor.

He remembered the last few minutes like they were a very old conversation. Kenobi, he had been holding Kenobi. He was covered in blood, like the floor around the Jedi was now, the man's bandages having been roughly torn from damaged skin as they moved down the hall. _Kill Kenobi._ He remembered the order coming through his mind, the strongest part of him that had wanted to follow it. It would have been so easy, to snap his neck. The man wasn't even resisting.

He had been speaking in soft tones to him. What had he said? Nothing Rex could remember, but as the rest of the memories, as the fog started to split from the front of his brain, he remembered. He had resisted, fought against the orders he had so strictly been given. Listen to the Chancellor. Always the Chancellor. The Jedi are evil, all of them. Kill the Jedi. Protect the Republic. Protect the New Empire. But he hadn't done it. He couldn't kill Kenobi. But why?

He sank to his knees, watching a third Jedi, this one green, with long tentacles, move to fight the Chancellor as Skywalker fell back with a kick to the face. Kenobi had saved him. From prison. From torture. From pain. From betraying his brothers. He had fought his orders to kill him, in the move that would have snapped his neck, he moved his arms to far down, jerked his shoulders instead.

He looked at Obi-Wan, willing himself to remember more. If he had simply twisted his body, why was he like this? Why wasn't he moving?

Then the memories hit him like a wave. Kadavo, where they had both been bruised, bloodied, and beaten. Serenno, where, he could finally clearly recall, the General had been whipped, beaten, starved, tortured in every kind of way for information he just wouldn't give. Each memory hit him vividly, followed by the clearing of his mind. These were his Jedi, the Chancellor had betrayed them.

He fell fully, his body sinking under the realization of what he had done. "General Kenobi?" Jerking his body like that, in the state the man was in. He could easily have killed him. "Sir?" There was no response.

He leaned forward, gently moving the man's head, pale as the walls they were surrounded by as blood ran out of his torso, and pressed two fingers to his neck, feeling desperately for a pulse.

* * *

Anakin pulled himself up from the floor, watching as Mace Windu parried the tip of the Sith's saber, spinning backwards out of range of the next swing. He ran forward as Master Fisto moved to engage him, swinging wildly, his lightsaber a blur of green energy that mirrored the Chancellor's. He was a skilled fighter, blocking, parrying, and trying to strike, but Palpatine was simply too fast. One thrust that would have caught him through the chest only missed as Anakin pulled desperately with the force, jerking his arm backwards.

"You need me, Anakin, don't act like you're going to let them kill me." His words were cruel daggers, which, combined with his easy blocking of Anakin's erratic strikes, cut deep into the Jedi. "I can feel your anger. I can show you how to use it. How to save her life."

It occurred to Anakin, in the back, part of his brain, far buried behind his opperant fury, that if the Sith continued talking, his marriage to Padme would be exposed. What did it matter now? His Master, the only Jedi who had really ever supported him, was dead. There bond was not yet broken, at least Anakin hadn't feel the harsh severing of it, but it was feeling smaller and smaller. Empty and draining. His restraint was gone, he was fighting purely on impulse. He had never felt so free, the force flowing through each one of his muscles, and yet, as he moved, he could feel the tears on his face.

He could feel the dark side close enough for him to link to it, for it to give him the definitive strength to kill Palpatine, to have every piece of revenge he could want for all that had happened. His resistance to it, like his connection to Obi-Wan, was fading slowly, draining out of his like slow-moving water. He thought of Qui-Gon, of what the gentle Jedi would think of him. Of his mother, what she would have to say about her son, her son she had been so proud of as he eft her to become a Jedi, considering embracing the dark side of the force. He thought of Padme, and the vision of her dying, crying out for him in pain, came to him again and the darkness grew closer.

Still, he fought. Fought the Sith, his blade moving in long arcs, short stabs, his eyes no longer guiding him, every actin solely dictated by the force. Fought the darkness, trying not to the let the desperation of his heart tear at his emotions. "I don't need anything from you." He spat back, and he felt a thick wave of the force move against him, shoving him back hard into the nearest wall as both Fisto and Windu surrounded him.

"I'm the only one with the power to save your wife!" Anakin saw what was going to happen, and even as he tried, his concentration muddled by the horrified look Mace Windu gave him over his lightsaber blade, he could not stop it. Fisto's lightsaber was reduced to a smoldering hilt, and in the same swift motion that had destroyed it, the Chancellor's lightsaber impaled him. "The Jedi are weak."

To Anakin's surprise, Mace Windu, who's expression was typically one of stoicism and slightly unsettled displeasure, changed into bearing a look of pure fury. His purple blade swung in an insanely aggressive arc, forcing Palpatine back as the Vaapad style entirely took over the fight. Fisto's body sank to the floor, lifeless as Dooku's behind him, and Windu ignored it, his blade connecting harshly with the Sith Lord's.

But he found himself frozen. Was it true? The Jedi would never even have let him marry Padme, how would they help her? If Palpatine died, would that mean she would as well? His mind and body fought against each other, traversing the reality he was in, filling his mind with twin images of his dying wife and his dying friend. Were both bound to happen? If he stayed with the Jedi, would they ever help him?

His eyes followed the fighting, but he no longer had the strength to run and join it. His muscles felt tired, his body falling apart under the weight of his decision. He heard the clang as Palpatine's lightsaber flew from his hand to hit the duracrete wall, the older man collapsing to the floor. He saw the lightning as it pulsed form his fingers, the scream of fury as it poured back into him, blocked by the purple lightsaber blade. He heard the man's cries for help, the save him, that he could save Padme. He finally said her name, the truth tumbling out; and still Anakin could not move. In the dreadful silence that followed, Palpatine's lamentations, Windu's hard breathing at having had restrained all of that fury, the encroaching pull of the dark side, Anakin realized that he might never be able to move again.

He closed his eyes, willing for the world to simply freeze, for the non-existent force bond he could now feel from Obi-Wan to stay clinging to life, if it even still was. For the darkness to stop its slow assault into his mind and body. For Windu to stand there forever, Palpatine lying still and quiet. But it could not be so.

"Ani?" His eyes still closed, he could hear her voice. For a moment, he thought it was his vision, more tangible, coming to life in his mind. That it had moved from a horror created by a Sith to reality. But he could feel a new presence in the force, Master Yoda had returned, had come to them. "Ani, look at me."

And he did, turning slowly to the entrance of the medical ward, to see his Master Yoda and his apprentice, escorting, her hand pressed against his stomach where their child now grew, his wife.


	19. Decisions

There she was, so strong, preserved. In her eyes was not the horror he had expected to see, he could see her refusal to look around the room, to see the destruction and death that emanated from the Sith and his power. She simply locked eyes with him, offering him everything he needed. "I'm safe, Anakin. You don't have to do this."

He wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe her so badly. So badly that hit hurt, his knees felt like collapsing, his body like giving in to her, running to her, embracing her in a hug that would revive him. But again, the voice cut into his mind. The image of her death. "I'm the only one who can save her." Palpatine's voice was not loud and cumbersome as it had been, not harsh, but inviting. Smooth, tinged with the charisma that he had always possessed. That he had used on Senators to get his way, then winked at Anakin to show how easily he had manipulated them. It had used to be funny to him, to see it used on the weak minded. It was funny no more. "Use what I can give you. Don't let them kill me."

"How do I know you aren't lying?" He said, noting again the dead tone that come into his voice. "You've lied about everything else, Chancellor." He didn't turn to look at him, keeping his eyes on his wife as she came to him, putting her hand on his arm.

"Look at the Jedi!" His hatred was evident. "They've died so easily, this one hardly put up a fight." Anakin didn't have to turn to know he was pointing at Master Fisto, sprawled lifeless on the floor. "At least Kenobi tried to live, not that it has amounted to much." The cold fury rose up in Anakin again. Not at the simple act of Obi-wan's torture. At the pure injustice of it all. Before this, when he had looked at Anakin, known the secret of Padme and their child, and still had tried to rise and fight for his friend, on unsteady legs, ignoring the bitter pains of his torture that Anakin could feel through their bond, because he loved him as a brother, as a son. And yet, such a gentle man, with such strength, was still dying, bleeding to death slowly on the floor. "The Jedi cannot saver her. Cannot save your child."

"What's he talking about?" Padme's voice was gentle.

"I've had visions of you…dying in childbirth. I can't let that happen, Padme." His sad eyes met her clear ones there, and she reached up, brushing a small spot of blood off of his cheek. He realized, his stomach rolling, that he hadn't realized it was there and that it was Obi-Wan's where he had been trying to shake him awake. He looked away from her. "I just can't."

"It won't." Her fingers came under his chin, lifting his head up slightly to look at her, "You don't have to do this. You're a good person, Anakin, don't do this." For a moment nothing happened. Then Ahsoka, who had tears on her eyes that she was trying hide, moved around them and sank to ground next to Rex, who was no his knees, Obi-Wan's shoulders laying on him. Anakin watched, with gentle graces, press a hand to the clone's, then move her own hand, ignoring the blood that pressed at her fingers, to feel for a pulse on Obi-Wan's neck. He felt the force coming from her, trying to heal the tertiary wounds, to slow the bleeding, to preserve the life that he was so quickly losing. And it was in those gentle motions that Anakin had his answer.

"I know." He said, turning his face away from her. "I won't let it."

* * *

He considered the situation he was in. He hadn't expected this. He had expected Kenobi to die with the pathetic fanfare of an ordinary Jedi. He had underestimated Skywalker's attachment to him, it was not a mistake he would make again. Kenobi had almost ruined everything for a second time, but now, as his future apprentice walked towards him, cowering under the glow of Windu's purple lightsaber, aggression twisting the features of the Jedi Master, he saw what was coming. Yoda's plan must have failed. Bringing Amidala here, it had not done what he had expected, he could see the cold rage on Skywalker's face. The hatred. The guilt.

Windu, he could tell, saw it too, tightening his grip on his lightsaber hilt, and it occurred to Palpatine that the only thing keeping him alive was the Jedi ideal of not killing an unarmed man. If he hadn't been relishing in the hatred and fury and pain in the room, he would have laughed at the irony. "Good, Anakin, good." Windu didn't speak, Yoda dropped his cane, stepping around Amidala who was looking worriedly at the retreating form of her husband. The girl was still trying to heal Kenobi, and Palpatine upturned his nose at the thought, at the futility.

Anakin's blue blade ignited, humming to life. He looked at it a moment, then made a sweeping gesture with his hand. "Move." He was speaking to Windu, and Palpatine smiled. He was fine, the boy wasn't strong enough to resist him. Windu stared at hi a moment, he could see the dark mistrust the master held for Skywalker. He stepped back a half step, giving the other man access, but not nearly enough room to escape without a fight. His purple lightsaber stayed lit.

Then his eyes turned to Palpatine, who began to rise, getting to his feet where he could face his new apprentice fully. "I'm glad you see the truth, my boy, the Jedi are weak. You can excel, be far greater than any Jedi I have known." He reached out with the dark side of the force, trying to test the new bond he would create between them. Replace the one he had with Dooku.

* * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi could feel a heavy weight pressing against him. He felt as though he were tied to the back of a boat. Sometimes as it moved, he was above water, could breath, see, feel, hear. Other times he was underwater: choking, blind, desperate. Now he could feel soothing waves, pulling him up out of the water. With them, instead of the quiet ease he had been feeling for what felt like an eternity, the pain that was settled on him was revived. It started with his leg, just below his knee. It was the first thing he was cognoscente of, it felt splintered and cracking.

Following that was his back, where it felt like a thousand tendrils of white fire were cutting along the muscles, enshrouding him in pain and fire. He couldn't ever remember hurting this badly, and as he started to feel his torso, in the same state as his back, and his shoulders which felt oddly wrenched out of place; he was certain he hadn't. He felt the force, not as strong as it could have been, but still present, washing over him. His insides, torn and bruised, knitting themselves back together in his stomach, along his sides. He felt the blood slow, still running out in slow waves, but far less quickly. It wasn't the soaking, wild pulses he had, but the indeterminate, slow-moving beats that pushed him further.

Slowly, he was becoming aware of what was happening. Taste came first, and it was only the coppery tang of blood that was present. Then smell, which was much the same. Then his hearing, where a low lightsaber hum came to his ears, followed by another. Words, disjointed, jumbled, no matter how hard he tried to focus. Then, slowly, he opened his eyes. His first vision was of the too-white celling, then Ahsoka's face, her eyes closed in concentration as her hands pressed into his bandaged chest. Then Rex, who looked haggard, his face drawn tight, his lips curled, guilt eating at his features. Then, slowly, as he turned his head, he saw the scene unfolding around him.

Anakin was standing, his lightsaber drawn, in front of the Chancellor. He wasn't attacking, he was listening as the man poured more poison into his ear. Obi-Wan wanted to reach out, to help him, but there was nothing he could do in this state. He could barely feel his own force connection as he realized the strong waves that moved around him were coming from Ahsoka.

"This is the start of our journey together. Use my knowledge, Anakin, I beg you." Obi-Wan then saw Senator Amidala take a step forward, and Yoda ignite his lightsaber. "Help me escape. I'll show you everything I know. Together, we can save her. Bring peace to the galaxy."

He was wrong, Obi-Wan wanted to yell, wanted to say something, but his body would not cooperate. In fact, his vision was fading, his body was pulling him into sleep again. Into a dreaming state, where those things he had restrained for so long were pouring into his brain, trying to alleviate the pain he was feeling. Qui-Gon, still alive and happy; Anakin, happy and safe; Satine, standing next to him, safe and free for their secret love. Things that could not be, choices he had made. He watched Anakin move slightly, lift his lightsaber up over his head.

The Chancellor smiled, Yoda leapt to stop him, Mace Windu raising his own. To block him, to stop him, to do something. And yet, Obi-Wan knew they were wrong. They had always been wrong.

And as Anakin's lightsaber descended in a slow blue arc, not to attack the Jedi, not escape the unit, not to fight, or make a stand, but to pierce through Palpatine's heart with a loud gasp; Obi-Wan hoped they understood now the price of loyalty to the Order.

With that thought, his head still buzzing with happy times, he let himself fall back into the darkness that pulled against his eyelids, wondering if it was only sleep after all.


	20. Reflection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 will be posted soon, called Reconstruction! Thank you all so much for the involvement so far, hope to have you reading then!

It was far too quiet here for Anakin. He had never liked funerals to begin with, the sense of finality, the pain and suffering that they always brought. Even now, with only himself, Master Windu, and Master Yoda in attendance, an air of solemnity hung about the place. The casket chamber closed, the light igniting as the cremation began, and, unlike at other funerals he had attended, including Master Fisto's the day before, he had not desire now to look away as the light grew and faded quickly.

They had returned Palpatine's body to Naboo. He had served their planet for years, and even though his identity as the infamous Sith Lord had been revealed, they had demanded he be returned and buried on Naboo soil. There was little discrepancy within the Jedi Order to do so, a team had been sent to accompany the body to make sure it was properly buried and that no suspicious activity surrounded the funeral. Anakin had abstained, there were far more important things to take care of here.

A questions had arisen, a question not easily answered, one that was still hanging over him. His status as a Jedi was in question: there were clearly those within the order who wanted his status to be revoked. His marriage to Padme and her subsequent pregnancy was now common knowledge, and in all manners of the word, it violated every aspect of the Jedi code. There were others Ahsoka, Plo Koon, Master Yoda, and, in a most unexpected turn of events, Master Windu who had abdicated for a repartitioning of the definitions that encapsulated attachment for a Jedi. He was now in Limbo, a member of the Jedi Order still, but walked the halls almost a stranger, where other Masters, Knights, and Padawans stared at him as he moved. He didn't care, he was numb to their words after spending years excluded from them as the chosen one.

And still, there were other things to deal with. Padme was pregnant, now he knew, and he was planning for her impending labor and childbirth. It was months away, but still, he worried about it each day, even though, after Palpatine's death, the image of her dying in childbirth had ceased to be anything except a sour memory. He refused to resign from the Order, telling Master Yoda that if they wanted him gone, they would have to expel him, and so, under this guise, he was juggling his personal responsibilities, his responsibilities as a master, and his work as a general in a war that finally ending.

He had stayed any punishment of Rex for his actions in assisting the Chancellor in his plot. In turn, they had investigated the root and had narrowed the cause down to a small set of trigger tumors. They were beginning to investigate all of the clones, beginning with the 501st battalion. In each report he checked, the story was the same. Every clone had them, in varying states of decay. If they had not stopped them, hadn't caught it, they would have slaughtered their commanders at the drop of an Order. It was horrific, an incredibly detailed plot hatched only months after Anakin himself had joined the Order. None of them had caught it. Not a single one.

"Clouded, the future of the Jedi Order is." Yoda said, breaking the silence that was only accentuated by the small roaring of flames they could hear beneath the ground. It was much better, Anakin thought, than the open funeral they had held for Qui-Gone Jinn. More terrible, too. These efficient chambers existed only because of the war, when Jedi were being killed in massive numbers. All that remained now between them and victory was General Grievous, whose location they were pinpointing as the three Jedi sat. "Tread carefully, we must. A failure, we were, so long ago."

Anakin knew what he was referring too. It was not the first time the little green master had lamented his own mistakes as a Master. As a Jedi.

And still, Anakin found it hard to focus beyond the immediate future. Beyond the end of the war, the election of the new Chancellor. Padme's pregnancy. His own status as a Jedi. And, lying almost completely comatose in a bed several hundred levels above him, his own master, still clinging to life. Anakin knew that Ahsoka's actions of healing, of being able to concentrate her power into helping his oldest friend had saved the man's life. But his injuries, which had been healing, were now even worse.

Whatever Rex had done, in his blitzed out mind, had torn at the already weakened muscles on Obi-Wan's back and chest, shifted his ribs where they were already cracked and broken. Each time he went to the medical ward, it seemed they were changing his bandages and sheets that had become soaked with blood because they couldn't stop the bleeding. He spent most of his days in there, when he wasn't being forced to testify in court, when he wasn't forced to endure Rex's testimony about the torture Obi-Wan had been subjected to, first on Zygerria, then on Kadavo, and then even worse on Serreno.

Now, when he would hold Obi-Wan's body upright, allowing the medical droids to stitch at, inject, and re-wrap his wounds, he could feel the hot pulses on anger that shot through him at every whip mark and bruise. But, like the other feelings of pain, he released them into the force, determined not to let them get the best of him now as they had in the past.

Which is why he was sitting where he was now. Unlike Naboo, when they had contacted Serreno; they had not wanted Dooku's body returned. Despite protest form many Master's, the fact did not change that Dooku had once been a Jedi, that he had tried to stop Palpatine. Yoda had been insistent, and eventually, the rest of the council had relented. He would be cremated here, his ashes left to mingle with those who had been his Jedi brethren so long ago. But they had not attended his funeral, Anakin wasn't sure why he himself was here. But he could feel the closure that watching the pit of flames brought him. This was over, the Sith were done.

"I fear now that if we don't change, we are sealing our own fate." Windu agreed, and even though Anakin knew that they were considering validating his marriage, allowing him to be both a Jedi and a husband and father, he didn't want to talk. He clenched his metal hand tightly.

"I need to leave. Master Yoda, Master Windu." He bowed slightly to them and let his gaze linger for a moment longer on the funeral pit of Count Dooku before he left. His feet carried him forward to wherever they were going to lead him. He had not destination in mind. If he never saw another funeral again, eh would be happy. If he never saw the inside of another hospital. If he never saw another drop of blood, another bruise being covered by a bandage, heard another scream, he felt that would be happy.

Unfortunately, as he pressed the button that would carry hi back to where Obi-Wan was laying, those weren't options he had.


End file.
